


On Broken Wings

by Kuzuriolu



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Laguz, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, three shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 48,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuzuriolu/pseuds/Kuzuriolu
Summary: There were two things the people of Fódlan hated more than anything: Foreigners, and the Laguz.Perhaps that's why Petra and Dorothea made such a good pair.(Spoilers for all of the Black Eagles)





	1. White Wings: Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU that incorporates Three Houses and Tellius lore. To get them both to work, I had to bend a few rules. You don't have to point out the discrepancies because I am well aware of them! 
> 
> For the sake of this fanfiction, assume that the Officer's Academy and Crests don't exist.

**Part One: White Wings**

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Great Tree Moon**

Their first meeting had been by chance.

Petra had been wandering the woods of Adrestia on her own. Even though she had been whisked away to an unfamiliar land five years ago and forced to assimilate to their ways and traditions, her captors could never rip her roots from underneath her. Brigid was a nation that celebrated nature and hunting, something that Petra held near and dear to her heart. Although the Empire kept close eyes upon her, she occasionally was allowed to set out for hunting trips for the sake of training. That day was one such occasion.

In the forest, she felt as though she could be free of Fódlan’s chains; she could let herself loose and let her arrows fly free, just as they did in the woods of Brigid. The local flora and fauna was a far cry from her homeland, but it was the only substitute that would do, for she no longer could return home.

The sixteen-year-old girl drew her bowstring back as her eyes locked upon a wild pheasant that was blissfully unaware of her presence. The huntress had long ago learned to conceal herself amongst bushes, to lower her breathing and hold it as she fired her arrow. To her prey, she was the perfect predator. Petra took a breath in as she prepared to let the arrow loose, her concentration undivided. But the arrow did not fly. 

The sound of soft singing drifted through an opening in the trees, and Petra lowered her bow. She blinked in confusion as she felt her heart ebb gently, as though calmed by the mysterious voice. She slipped her arrow back into its quiver and stood up, gazing towards the source of the angelic voice. The strong urge to pursue the owner consumed her, the pheasant completely forgotten as it wandered away into the thicket. 

Petra followed the voice through the trees while her careful ears listened for the sound of any potential predators. Her journey took her through fallen branches and over piles of jagged rocks, but she did not falter once. After about seven minutes of traveling, she found herself before an enormous tree, towering over everything else in the forest. A soothing voice continued to sing from high in the tree, the melody angelic and calming. Petra felt stress she didn’t know she even had melting away while her muscles relaxed. Her arms dropped to her sides and she took in a heavy breath, her eyes closing as she listened deeply to the tune. She did not understand the words sung out, as it was not in the language of Fódlan or Brigid, but they were powerful all the same. She hadn't known that music could effect her in such a curious way. 

Suddenly, the singing ceased. Petra’s eyes opened and her gaze shifted up the tree, perplexed. 

“My my, I didn’t think I was going to have an audience,” an alluring voice spoke out from above. 

Petra was quick to locate the source. A young woman who could not be much older than her sat upon a branch, adorned in a flowing white dress free of stains and black cap. She had stunning eyes as green as the seas of Brigid and locks of brown hair that fell gracefully upon her shoulders. From every angle, she was nothing short of beautiful. 

Wait. Petra gasped as her eyes locked onto a large pair of sleek white wings attached to the other woman’s shoulders, unfurled and shimmering in the sun. By the spirits, she was a heron!

Petra had only heard stories about the heron Laguz. Brigid was a nation of primarily Beorc, with only a few scarce beast and hawk Laguz tribes living in the hot climate. The two species lived separately from each other and occasionally would interact only for trade, but no aggression existed between them. The herons, on the other hand, were a tribe that only existed in the forests of Fódlan. They were said to be a peaceful tribe known for their ability to feel and understand the emotions of others, as though they were peering into someone’s heart. They had beautiful singing voices that were said to be able to capture anyone's heart, clearly evident by the heavenly tune that drew Petra in. 

But Petra had also heard that the herons were near extinction. Their homeland had been burnt out of a false vengeance by residents of the Kingdom. To see one sitting so plainly before her was nothing short of incredible. 

“You have my apologies! I did not mean to be intruding,” Petra called out to the heron. 

The heron girl smiled softly and shook her head. “You’re not intruding on anything. It’s not often that I get an audience,” she reassured the Beorc woman. Her wings spread wide to reveal her their impressive span as she leapt from the branch, soft fluttering keeping her descent slow and steady. She landed gracefully upon her feet and approached Petra without any fear.

Petra suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her, but she was not sure why. Perhaps she was simply distracted by the charm of the woman before her, for it was hard not to be taken with such unparalleled beauty. “I am called Petra Macneary. I am of Brigid,” she introduced. “I did not mean to give you fright. I am not wishing to bring harm.”

The woman shook her head. “It’s all right. Your heart is pure,” she replied confidently, sensing the Beorc's intentions easily. “I’m Dorothea Arnault. A pleasure!”

Dorothea: a gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman, Petra thought to herself. “Ah… because I am not of Fódlan, speaking your language gives me difficulty. I am capable of writing and reading with fluency. I am sorry if my speaking gives you trouble,” she apologized quickly, for she always felt the need to do so when she encountered someone new. There were many people in Fódlan who were accepting of her difficulties and patient with her as she fumbled over her words, but many were not. Fódlan was not a continent that thought kindly of foreigners, as she had learnt. 

“I don’t mind at all. It’s kind of charming!” giggled Dorothea. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone from Brigid before. Isn’t it a part of the Empire?”

“It … is now a vassal of the Empire, yes,” Petra replied unsteadily. It had been for five years now, as a punishment for the war they brought upon the Empire—a war that they had lost. “It is for a token of allegiance that I was sent to be living here. My grandfather, the king of Brigid, asked of me to go. I have been living in the Empire for five years.”

Dorothea grumbled a bit. “Oh, those dastardly Empire nobles. Sounds just like them,” she remarked with a sigh. “I know how annoying all of them can be. Typical, typical.” She shook her head. “So how’s a princess of Brigid finding Fódlan? I’m sure it’s hard to settle in to such a different culture.” 

Indeed it was. No matter where she went, Petra had trouble understanding certain aspects of life in Fódlan, such as how the value of the people’s lives were dictated by their social status, commoners brushed away and left to rot on the streets for all anyone cared. They looked down upon those who were not followers of the Church of Seiros, claiming the denial of the goddess to be heresy. The Laguz of Fódlan were treated as mere beasts, as evil creatures said to have murdered the Goddess over a thousand years ago. How people could follow such cruel traditions, Petra could never understand. Looking at Dorothea, she could see nothing to hate. 

“I have uncertainty about Fódlan,” the Beorc admitted. “It is much different from Brigid. I am not able to eat much of my favorite foods from Brigid, and the plants growing here do not have similarity. I am allowed to be going hunting by the generals of the Imperial army, but…” Being trapped in Fódlan just wasn't the same. Brigid simply felt so far away, and not just because of the ocean separating the two lands. “I have thanks to Lady Edelgard for treating me with kindness. But many other nobles do not wish to.”

Dorothea stroked her chin. “Hmm… sounds about what I’d expect. People of Fódlan are so cruel about anyone who isn’t a follower of their church. Especially those nobles,” she vented while stretching her wings out. Petra’s eyes could not help but linger on the glimmering feathers in awe. “I may have been born here in the Empire, but they’ve given me nothing but trouble. How I’d love to give them a piece of mind! Unfortunately, I’m nothing but a common heron, so there’s not much I can do about it.”

Being from Brigid was tough enough, but Petra had seen how the Laguz were treated firsthand, and had heard plenty of stories to know that being a Laguz absolutely wasn’t easy—especially given that Dorothea was heron, a tribe on the verge of vanishing forever, which begged the question…

“Are you living here, Dorothea?” Petra asked. She couldn’t imagine that Dorothea was living amongst Beorcs. 

Dorothea nodded. “Right now I am. It’s not much, but it’s all I can really do… just, wander the forest like a lost child.” That lead Petra to the question of where Dorothea was living prior, but she didn’t want to push her new friend by asking too many personal questions. “It’s fine, though. There’s berries around here I can eat and… well, I can bathe in the lake. I can’t ask for much more right now…”

Petra felt saddened by the heron’s answer. How lonely she must be, being the only of her kind roaming the forest. She had no friends to call her own, and certainly no real home. Was there really nothing that could be done? “I am wanting to be helping you,” the Petra spoke out with determination. “I am a huntress with much excellence at shooting prey. I can be giving you some of my food, if you will allow.” 

Dorothea didn’t seem to be expecting such a gesture of kindness. “Oh, Petra, you don’t have to do that. I’m really alright looking after myself,” she insisted. 

The Brigid Princess refused to take that as an answer. “I am often hunting in these woods. If you are here, I will be giving you food and anything else! I have already decided!” she declared loudly. She would not back down, no matter what Dorothea may tell her. As someone who felt horribly out of place in a strange, new continent, the least she could do was lend a helping hand to a girl with nowhere else to go.

“How very kind of you,” Dorothea whispered, clearly touched by Petra’s kindness. “If you really insist, then I suppose I can’t refuse.” 

“I am insisting!” Petra reiterated. “From now on, I will be meeting you here. Do not forget!”

Thus began the friendship of Petra, a Beorc princess from Brigid, and Dorothea, a common heron from the Adrestian Empire. As promised, Petra would meet Dorothea at the bottom of the grand tree and bring her meat and freshly picked vegetables, as well as whatever else Dorothea requested that Petra could get her hands on. Their meetings started out infrequently, but soon grew from weekly to daily. Petra began to look forward to seeing Dorothea every day, a shining light of her life amongst the confusion and struggle of being in an unfamiliar land. 

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Blue Sea Moon**

“Hey, Petra,” Dorothea spoke up one afternoon, as she sat against the great tree watching Petra peel potatoes with the blade of her hunting knife. “You’re always kind enough to bring me food, but I’ve never been able to return the favor. There has to be something I can do, like… maybe I could cook you a meal from Brigid?”

Petra stopped her knife and looked up. “I am wishing that were possible, but the food of Brigid simply does not grow in Fódlan. I have searched shops, but none of them carry anything from Brigid,” she explained. It was unfortunate that no one in Fódlan seemed interested in exporting the many goods of Brigid to try, but she had long ago grown used to the arrogance and hubris of nobles, who looked down upon anything not from their own land. 

Dorothea mumbled a bit in annoyance. “Well, there must be something else I could do! I could give you a massage to help you relax?” she suggested.

The Beorc shook her head. “I am relaxing just fine!” she insisted. 

“Hm… I just worry about you, Petra. It must be hard being away from home,” Dorothea expressed with growing concern upon her face. 

Petra frowned. “What about you?” she asked. “Are you missing your home? Your tribe?”

It was a heavy question that Petra had yet to ask. After meeting Dorothea, she had done her research into what had happened to the heron tribe. In Imperial Year 1176, the year after Petra had come to Fódlan, a great tragedy struck. The king of Faerghus and several other key nobles were brutally murdered supposedly by the people of Duscur, a land inhabited by primarily Laguz, and the Kingdom had retaliated by massacring everyone who lived in Duscur. However, even afterwards, people still sought vengeance for what had happened. The peaceful heron tribe was implicated as a supposed co-conspirer in the murder, and they could do nothing to fight back against the accusations. The Church of Seiros ordered their execution, and thus, the people burnt down the land of which the herons lived, taking all of their lives in the process. Herons who tried to flee were struck down with a barrage of arrows, and those who were left behind that did not succumb to ash and fire were impaled upon swords and spears. The fact that Dorothea was sitting beside her right now was nothing short of a miracle, all things considered.

Dorothea fidgeted, clearly battling with how to answer such a question. Her eyes gazed towards the blue sky, which was visible only slightly beyond the heavy trees. She took a deep breath, and finally, she answered Petra’s questions. “I haven’t been home in a long time, let alone with my tribe,” she admitted, sighing softly. “Even amongst the herons, I was always an outsider. I never met my father, and my mother passed away when I was young. I was just left to wander my village, and no one really gave me a second look. I was alone. With no future.” She twirled a strand of her hair with her finger, a wistful look upon her face. “I knew I had no chance. So… I did the unthinkable. I left. I flew a long way from our home and into the streets of Enbarr. Wherever I went, the Beorc looked down on me. They mocked me, threw rocks at me, called me a filthy subhuman and told me to leave their city. But I didn’t let it get to me. I pressed onward, and spent many days on the verge of starvation, begging rich nobles who turned their nose at me for a scrap of food. And then one day… I was in a back alley, all alone, and I began to sing. I sang with all my heart, and soon enough, someone found me. She was from an opera company, and… she wanted me to join, even though I was a Laguz.” 

Her saddened look transformed into a warm, nostalgic smile. “That singer who found me that day, her name was Manuela. She took me in and made sure I had somewhere to go. She was the star of the opera company, so beautiful and dazzling! I realized I wanted to be just like her. So I took the stage, and I sang with all my heart. Suddenly, no one cared that I was a Laguz anymore. I had fans from all over, even noblemen who had thrown rocks at me were showering me in praise and gifts.” Her eyes sparkled as she recited her past, but such positivity did not last. “But… then I realized. I wasn’t loved because of who I am. They loved me because I was something beautiful, a spectacle to behold on stage, but nothing more. Beorc men professed their love for me hourly, offered to _buy_ me and lavish me in a life of luxury, but they didn't know who I was beyond that pretty face and voice. My beauty would not last, and soon, one day, I would be old and alone again, and I wouldn't even have my voice to save me. But… I kept pressing on despite all the doubt, despite all those empty praises from disgusting noblemen that left me feeling sick to my stomach every night… and then… and then it happened. The Tragedy of Duscur.”

Petra lightly squeezed Dorothea’s hand, sensing turmoil within her heart. She knew well how hard it was to speak of tragedy, and the fact that the heron was opening up to her like this meant so much. Dorothea squeezed back, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in the slightest of smiles, reassured by her friend’s warmth.

“...I wasn’t there for the aftermath, obviously,” she continued. “I only heard about what happened afterwards. I heard about my home, burning… my people, dead. I was never close to them, but still… my heart ached. I could no longer hear their songs of my brethren, calling to me even from so very far away. I struggled to sing, and my audience faltered. While some still admired my beauty, some would hassle me upon the stage. They’d call me a murderer, and again, a filthy subhuman. I kept going only because I had nothing else, but it just couldn’t last. Just about five months ago, the entire Mittlefrank Opera Company started getting violent threats. Threats to burn it to the ground, just as they had done to my homeland… and I knew, for the sake of myself and the other members of my troupe, that I couldn’t stay. So… again, I left. I came here… to wander. To search for a new path, for… something. Anything.” Her hand trembled against Petra’s, her body feeling stiff. “A sign, maybe. That I wasn’t alone.”

Petra gazed off into the sky, where Dorothea was looking. Her thumb idly stroked Dorothea’s hand, thinking of how horribly painful it must be. 

“It… is not much the same, but… I too am alone here in Fódlan. I am the only one of Brigid in the Imperial Army. I am not treated the same as the others.” Of course, it wasn’t as though all of her people were dead. “Some people… they use terrible names for me. They do not have kindness and patience for my speaking…” The grip on the other girl’s hand tightened. “When I had first arrived to Fódlan, I did not have understanding of a single word they spoke. So many just laughed. I had told you that I was sent to Fódlan as proof of Brigid loyalty, but it is not true.” Dorothea had just spilled over her past, so Petra felt safe doing the same. “Five years ago, Brigid and Dagda had attempted an attack on the Empire. My father was part of the army of Brigid. But they did not achieve the victory. They were lost… all of them, even my father.” She could still remember the sheer horror that shot through her body when her grandfather told her that her father would never be returning home, and that she had to leave Brigid all together. Even now, it stung like an open wound. “So to be sure they would not be rebelling any longer, I was to be taken hostage. If my grandfather acted with anger towards the Empire, it would mean they would kill me.” 

Dorothea’s gaze shifted from the sky to the girl beside her, empathy in her sea green eyes. “Petra,” she whispered gently. “I didn’t know. How terrible.”

Petra shook her head. “You do not need to be feeling sorry for me. I am fine now! Though it is true that many of Fódlan do not like me, the future emperor and other youth her age has much kindness towards me. Besides… I am having you by my side as well!” she replied cheerfully, shooting the other girl a warm smile. Although the pain still festered, she was an expert at moving forward. What good would it do to hold grudges? 

“Oh, now I really wish there were some way I could repay you,” sighed Dorothea, “but it seems we have more in common than I thought.”

Petra nodded firmly. “Yes! Although you are Laguz and I am Beorc, our experiences are much the same. I am thinking that we are making good friends.” 

“Well, we certainly are both trouble for those darn Imperial nobles,” remarked the heron with a mischievous grin. “Two things that Fódlan hates the most. A foreigner and a Laguz. We make good partners in crime, you and I.”

“Partners in crime? I do not think we are doing any crime…” Petra doubted.

“No no, Petra, it’s a phrase,” Dorothea corrected her swiftly. “Although some people would certainly get upset if they saw us together. Which is why we have this special place, just us.”

“Our special place…” repeated Petra, feeling warmth in her heart at the idea. Though surely others knew of this giant tree, no one had ever spotted the two of them here, together. Some days, just chatting, on others, having deeper conversations such as the one they were having now. “Just you and I,” she giggled.

Petra wrapped her arm around Dorothea’s, smiling and simply taking in the presence of the other girl. She felt safe and accepted around Dorothea, like all her worries about her past and future would vanish into thin air. How lucky she was to have a friend as understanding and kind as Dorothea. Her eyes closed as she breathed in, enjoying the feeling of basking in nature and relaxing against the bark of a tree. It wasn’t the same as Brigid, but it was as close as she could get for now. Besides, she wasn’t alone here. Not anymore.

“I am thinking… of something you could do for me,” Petra suddenly spoke out, breaking the peaceful silence.

“Oh? What is that?” Dorothea asked.

“Sing for me. I am wishing to hear your beautiful voice again…” Petra requested.

And so, she did just that. Dorothea took a deep breath in and began to sing beautiful words of an ancient language, their meaning lost long ago. It felt like magic, the melody calming and soothing to the soul. Petra held Dorothea’s arm tighter as she leaned her head into the crook of her neck, feeling so relaxed she could fall asleep. As Dorothea’s song continued, her white wing reached behind Petra’s back and wrapped around her side, encasing her in a soft, feathery embrace. Dorothea’s fingers caressed Petra’s braid, her eyes reflecting adoration as she gazed upon the sleepy Beorc. When her song was finished, she buried her nose in Petra’s hair and closed her eyes, allowing the sounds of the forest to put her to sleep.

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Verdant Rain Moon**

As the days flew by, Petra was asked to train more and more for the sake of the Imperial army. They wished for her to be a soldier to them someday, something that she wasn't certain she wanted. But she had no choice, and Lady Edelgard and the others were so kind to her, so she tried not to let it get to her. She was always moving forward, running from the war five years ago that had brought her here. Besides, her strength with a bow and sword was nearly unparalleled in the army, making her a most valuable asset. 

She came back to the Imperial base from her visit with Dorothea one evening with a nasty cut in her ankle, gotten from a stray thorn while traversing through the forest. Normally, she would have simply allowed it to heal over time, but Edelgard had insisted that she make her way to the infirmary to get it checked, just in case the worst happened and she gained some sort of infection. It was easier to simply relent than to brush off the future emperor’s worries, so she did not make a big fuss of it and went to the infirmary.

What greeted her within was a woman in plenty of makeup and a dress that did not leave much to the imagination, who offered her a smile at her as she entered. “Hello there! What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Petra raised her foot. “I received an injury upon my ankle while I was hunting,” she explained. “Lady Edelgard is wishing for me to make sure it is bandaged properly.”

“Of course, dear. Just give me a minute. Go ahead and sit on the bed over there.”

Petra did as she was told, watching the back of the woman as she gathered some bandages from her cabinets. How odd her attire was, Petra thought to herself. It was not something she would expect an imperial nurse to be wearing, especially if invaders were to attack the base. The lady walked over to Petra with the bandages in hand, slipping the girl’s shoe off while preparing to inspect the wound.

“You’re Petra Macneary, right?” the woman spoke, trying to make conversation as she began her work. “I heard you came all the way from Brigid. And you’re in the Imperial Army now?”

“That is the truth. I am from Brigid,” Petra replied. It made sense that word of her presence spread rather quickly, given that she was the odd one out amongst the other members of the Imperial Army. “Lady Edelgard has shown me much kindness, so I am working hard to be a strong fighter. The methods of fighting are different from Brigid, but I am learning slowly… and I am also learning the language.”

The woman let out a short laugh. “Don’t worry, I can understand you perfectly well.” She gently wrapped the bandage around the wound, causing Petra to wince ever so slightly. “You’ve done well for yourself, it seems. Found anyone special in Fódlan?”

What sort of question was that, Petra wondered? She looked visibly puzzled, her lips curving downward into a confused frown. “There are a few people of Fódlan are special to me. They treat me with kindness,” she answered.

“Oh no no, I meant a special man. Like, a boyfriend, or maybe even a future husband…” corrected the woman.

“I have no such thing,” she clarified immediately. Petra wasn’t exactly here to look for a man’s hand in marriage, after all. She was a hostage, and truly, the last thing on her mind were matters of potential husbands, but… when the woman had first suggested someone special, the image of Dorothea came to mind. Their friendship was unlike any other, and they shared a special place and told each other secrets. Was something like that considered special? Petra certainly thought so, much more than a husband, anyway.

“Well that’s perfectly fine. Love is always wasted on the young ones,” sighed the woman. “They never know what they have, prancing around holding hands like no one else is around. It all becomes so much more complicated when you're older, so much more... difficult.”

Petra wasn’t even sure what to make of that, so she remained completely quiet. Was love really that complicated? It had never seemed that way to her, but then again, she had never bore feelings of that kind for anyone else.

“There, all done,” the woman spoke out as she finished patching up Petra’s ankle. She stood up and smiled. “Don’t be afraid to come by if you’re ever hurt, all right?”

Petra smiled and hopped to her feet once again. “I have gratitude, um—”

“—Manuela. Manuela Casagranda,” the nurse introduced. 

Manuela… Manuela… Ah… Petra’s eyes went wide as she remembered where she had heard that name from. Dorothea had spoke of a woman named Manuela who had taken her in to the Mittlefrank Opera Company. Was this the same Manuela? “Manuela… you were in an Opera Company?” Petra asked, unable to help her curiosity.

Manuela looked surprised. “I was! I was the star of the Mittlefrank Opera Company until rather recently. What, has word of my beauty reached your ears?” she teased, rather proud of herself. 

“Ah… I had heard of you. From a friend of mine,” Petra responded flatly. She figured it would be against Dorothea’s wishes if she brought up her name specifically, so she decided to be vague. “But I am wondering how you came to be a member of the Imperial army.”

“Oh, it’s a long story, dear,” Manuela replied. “Fame on the stage doesn’t last forever, and well, the men were simply atrocious! None of them would ever come for a second date. I had to find another future for myself. And I don’t mind working here, not at all. There are plenty of wonderful people, even though none of the knights have taken me out either…” She seemed to harbor some form of bitterness towards love, for whatever reason, as Petra had begun to notice. That was the second time she had brought up the topic of romance within only a few minutes. “You’ll understand someday. You’re still young and beautiful.”

Petra wasn’t sure if she ever would. Her heart and mind still lingered on the beautiful heron, and how the two would sometimes spend their day just holding each other close, basking in the company of one another. Words didn’t always have to be said. Was something like that simple friendship, or was it love? She lingered on the feeling for a moment, lost in her thoughts.

“Manuela!” a voice shouted from the door. “We’ve got a load of injured soldiers coming in. Seems there was an encounter with some Laguz near the border.”

“Oh for the love of—” cursed Manuela, shaking her head in irritation. “Well, send them in and I’ll see to them.”

Petra hesitated. She should probably leave, but the news of a Laguz attack made her heart feel heavy. Why must the Laguz and Beorc of this nation fight each other? It was so peaceful in Brigid, and such hatred was nearly unheard of. “...That is unfair,” she spoke out loud, unable to simply remain quiet. “In Brigid, hatred of Laguz does not exist. But in Fódlan, the Beorc and Laguz are always fighting. I do not have understanding. Couldn’t Beorc and Laguz just get along, like in Brigid?”

The older woman looked at Petra with a pitiful expression upon her face. “It’s far too cruel, if you ask me, though most people would have your head if you said something like that. I’d suggest keeping that to yourself,” Manuela recommended. “If I were in charge of Fódlan, I’d put a stop to all that. I’ve met some perfectly nice Laguz. In fact, one in particular—” Manuela didn’t have time to finish her sentence, as hurried footsteps filled the hallway towards the infirmary. But she didn’t need to, for Petra knew exactly what she was going to say. 

_ Dorothea. _Did Manuela even know if Dorothea was alive? Dorothea had said she had simply vanished, not wishing to worry her friends at the opera company. The thought broke Petra’s heart. How she wished she could tell Manuela, tell her that Dorothea was well and that she was still oh so beautiful and her voice was like a goddess and that she loved her with all her heart—…

Ah. Petra took a sharp intake of breath and held it within her chest. So that’s what it was. She didn’t even register the sounds of people rushing around her as her heart throbbed. Of course it was never _ just _ friendship with Dorothea. What would she think, if she knew her Beorc friend had fallen hopelessly for her? Love between Beorc and Laguz was something strictly prohibited in Fódlan, and was hardly heard of in Brigid. The children of their union, the branded, were often stronger than regular Beorc, but were hated by both Laguz and Beorc alike. When a child of a Laguz and a Beorc was conceived, it was said that the Laguz would lose their ability to transform entirely, rendering them an outcast. She bit down on her lip and clenched her fists, leaving the infirmary with a new found turmoil brewing like a violent storm in her heart.

** Imperial Year 1180**

**Wyvern Moon**

Petra could not find it in her to tell Dorothea of her newfound feelings. She wasn’t even sure how she would even go about bringing such a thing up. Petra had never been in love before, not like this anyway. Of course as a child, she had a crush here and there, but it wasn’t ever anything serious. She wasn’t even sure how people of Fódlan went about pursuing matters like romance and marriage. 

So she continued meeting up with Dorothea as usual. One particular day, she was sitting beneath the great tree with a pointy stick in her hand, drawing outlines of plants within the dirt.

“This is one of my favorite fruits,” Petra explained to the curious heron. “It has much sweetness and is used in Brigid pastries. It is unfortunate that I cannot draw with accuracy, but I am hoping you have understanding.” 

“It sounds delicious!” Dorothea remarked, her eyes trained on the various drawings. “I wish I could try some of the food from Brigid. It sounds like a beautiful place.”

“It has much beauty!” agreed Petra. It always brought out her best side when she spoke of her homeland. “Our forests have many plants not found in Fódlan, and they are having many different colors. The ocean of Brigid is vast, and when the sun is setting, the stars are shining down into the clear water.. I am wishing to show you one day.” It was a dream of hers. Bringing Dorothea with her to Brigid, where it was safe for them to simply be themselves without concern for their wellbeing. They could spend days wandering through the forests, hand in hand… of course, Petra wasn’t sure what the people of Brigid were to think if the two of them were to wed, but that was a long way away. Petra wasn’t even sure the heron had any desire to marry her for goodness sake! But she was a young teenage girl in love for the first time, and she wasn't immune to such far-fetched fantasies. Lately, it was all that she could think about at night, and kept her up well past midnight.

Dorothea gazed to the sun, a wistful smile upon her face. “That sounds wonderful, Petra. I’d love to go. I’d fly there myself if my wings were strong enough to make such a journey.” As she spoke, her wings fluttered, and Petra marveled at the sight. They looked so soft, and she was overcome with the desire to stroke the girl’s pure white feathers. “I’d probably get lost anyway. Can’t say I’m the best navigator. It was pure luck I managed to get from Serenes Forest to Enbarr in the first place.”

Petra fidgeted, unsure how to phrase the words within her heart in a way that Dorothea would understand. “I… am serious. When I can be going home to Brigid, I wish to take you with me. Brigid does not have hatred towards the Laguz. I am not knowing if any other herons are living there, but…” she trailed off. The words seemed to be caught in her throat, and she could speak no more. 

The way Dorothea’s curious eyes peered into Petra’s soul made her shudder. She had heard that herons could read the emotions of others. Could Dorothea sense it? Did she know how much Petra’s heart longed for her? A silky hand reached out and grasped Petra’s, the heron’s face drawing closer. “I’d love that, Petra,” she breathed, their foreheads bumping together softly. Petra gasped softly and blushed, lacing their fingers together while gazing back, losing herself in the sea of Dorothea’s eyes. “My Petra…”

Petra wasn’t sure if her heart had ever beat so fast before. “Dorothea, I…” She gulped. What was she even supposed to say? Her hot breath lingered on Dorothea’s curved lips.

“I know,” Dorothea told her. “I know. I’ve always known. We herons are good at looking into the hearts of others. But I want to hear you say it…” 

Petra took a sharp breath in, her cheeks a fiery crimson. “I…” she started, nearly choking on her own words in a slight panic. Although she’d never say it out loud, she had practiced this numerous times in her mirror when she felt so sick with love that she could not bear it anymore. “I am having… no… I have feelings for you. I love you,” she confessed. She could have sworn she was going to pass out from the overload of emotions, and the anxiety rushing through her veins only served to make her feel dizzy. 

Dorothea touched her nose to Petra’s, giggling. “Me too,” she whispered. 

Petra’s eyes went wide. Oh spirits, she never thought she would get this far! She had practiced the confession, but the aftermath wasn't something she had even considered. “Th...that is, you are meaning to say you love me? Or you too are loving yourself?” she had to ask, not wanting the language barrier to get her into an irreversibly awkward situation.

“I love _ you_, silly!” Dorothea laughed, nuzzling their noses together. “My beautiful Petra Macneary. My princess…”

“You are making my cheeks blush, Dorothea!” gasped Petra. “The words you are saying are much too kind!”

“No, you’re the one who’s too kind,” Dorothea insisted. She raised her free hand up and tapped the top of Petra’s chest. “I can feel it, right here. That you love me like no one else has before. Your heart is singing to me… and what a lovely song it is! Please… I want to hear it sing even more.”

Petra wondered if she was talking about the fast rhythm of her heartbeat, or perhaps something a heron alone could sense. But either way, she didn’t care. “Yes! I will let you be listening,” Petra cried out from the bottom of her heart. 

“Then let us sing our song together,” Dorothea murmured softly.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Suddenly, Petra’s back was to the ground and a soft pair of lips were upon hers, kissing her gently, and yet, passionately. Petra let out a muffled gasp of surprise before melting into the kiss, allowing Dorothea to lead their dance. Her fingers weaved through strands of soft brown hair on the back of the heron’s head while Dorothea’s hands grasped the Brigid princess’s shoulders. Their hearts beat together in harmony, like a waltz of passion and love so new and tender. Both of them were inexperienced and unsteady, but oh so curious. When they pulled apart, Petra simply gazed at the woman on top of her. Her brilliant wings were completely unfurled, her feathers looking tantalizingly smooth…

Petra couldn’t help herself. She outstretched her hand and brushed Dorothea’s wings, her fingertips trailing down soft plumage. Dorothea had used her wings to cuddle Petra before, but this was the first time she had allowed herself to openly stroke them. The heron just giggled as her lover did so. “Soft, aren’t they?” she spoke. 

“Oh yes,” Petra replied breathlessly. “Everything about you has such beauty. But… that is not the reason I love you…”

“I know. That’s why I said you were different.” For a moment, Dorothea had a distant look in her eyes. “When I was a member of the opera company and on the stage, I had plenty of fans who only loved me because of my voice and looks. Their praises were shallow, and their gifts were meaningless… their hearts were empty. But… yours is so full, Petra.” She adjusted the cap upon her head so it would not fall and lay her ear to the other girl’s chest, closing her eyes. She simply lay there and listened, humming to the music of her heart. “I could just listen forever.”

Petra flustered. “I cannot hear the song of my heart…” she spoke, sounding disappointed. 

“You can. You Beorc don’t realize it, but there’s always a song. Just listen to your thoughts and hear yourself sing,” insisted Dorothea. 

And so, she closed her eyes and did just that. It wasn’t the same as a song, but it was certainly a harmony of words, some in the language of Fódlan and some in her own. But they were all about Dorothea, and how much she loved her—how she longed for a future with her, where the pointless fighting between the Beorc and Laguz would cease and no one would have to shed anymore tears. Maybe she was still young and foolishly in love, but her passion felt real. Even if love was wasted on youth like Manuela said, she didn’t care. She would cling to this feeling for as long as she possibly could.

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Red Wolf Moon**

“Petra. You’ve been so happy recently,” Edelgard commented one day as all the Imperial trainees sat down for dinner. “Has something good happened to you?”

Petra swallowed her fish and looked at the future emperor with a small smile on her face. She couldn’t share with all who asked the newfound romance that has bloomed between her and Dorothea, as much as she wanted to yell it out to the world. “Even though it is not the moon for hunting, I have been catching many animals with my bow and arrow. My pride is immense,” she half lied. While she indeed had some good hunts in the past moons, it was hardly the first thing on her mind. No, all of her thoughts were reserved solely for the wonderful heron she was so deeply in love with.

“Around now is when the wolves come out,” stated the woman sitting next to Edelgard. Her name was Byleth, and she had the role of both the instructor and the strategist in the Imperial Army. She worked alongside Edelgard, and Petra had noted that the two were rather close. “You should be careful. Although your results with a bow and arrow have been spot on, it would be a problem if we were to lose you.”

Edelgard sighed. “No kidding. I wouldn’t know what to tell your grandfather,” she remarked. “Brigid’s cooperation is important to the success of the Imperial Army. And… of course, you’re important too, Petra.”

“Do not be worrying about me. I am strong,” she reassured the two other women. She took a sip from her glass of water. “I have techniques from Brigid.”

“Of course. But don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it,” Edelgard requested. “All of us in the Imperial Army are as one.”

Petra finished her plate of food rather quickly after that. She hadn’t taken much, as she had already shared a meal with Dorothea prior to returning to base. Petra looked down at her waist, admiring the white heron feather she had attached to the strap of her quiver. Although she could not opening share her relationship with Dorothea, keeping a part of her close at all times felt like a good way to remind herself that she was not alone. Her finger lightly stroked the feather, thinking warmly of her lover. It seemed like every day, she was simply waiting for the time to come for her to see Dorothea again. How truly lovesick she was… it was almost laughable. 

“Is… is that a heron’s feather?” Edelgard spoke up, noticing the decoration. “Where did you find such a thing?”

Petra glanced up, surprised that Edelgard recognized it so easily. “It was in the forest while I was hunting. It had much beauty, so I took it,” she lied. It was the best excuse she could come up with.

“I was under the impression that most of the heron tribe was dead,” Byleth brought up. 

“They are, but there certainly are herons still around here and there. There used to be one about a year back at the Mittlefrank Opera Company, but…” Edelgard hesitated. “Well, no one really knows what happened to her. She just vanished one day. She had been getting a lot of threats, so who really knows if she was killed or just ran away. They certainly never found her body.”

“A stray heron feather in Empire territory… there’s not many other people it could be,” Byleth pointed out.

“You may have a point there,” Edelgard replied as she dipped her spoon into a rather sizeable helping of sahgert and cream.

The whole conversation, Petra’s heart throbbed. So it was true that Dorothea had simply vanished without telling anyone. She could understand why the heron had to make that decision, for fear that if someone knew she was still alive, she would be hunted down. Still, what of all the people who had genuinely cared for her? They were living in fear of her being dead, never knowing the truth. She hoped that one day, she would be able to tell them.

“... I have great sadness… hearing of such things,” Petra decided to pipe up. “In Brigid, there is no hatred for the Laguz. But here in Fódlan, everyone carries such hate in their hearts. I do not have understanding.” She had said something similar to Manuela, who had warned her not to express her sentiments to just anyone, but she couldn’t help herself. 

Edelgard glanced towards Byleth before answering. “...It was said that long ago, the members of the Laguz race murdered the Goddess. As such, they were branded heretics by Seiros herself. Members of the Church of Seiros and followers still scorn them to this day. It’s terrible, but there’s little to be done about such a matter,” she spoke seriously. “As long as the Church of Seiros exists, Laguz will be treated as nothing more than beasts.”

It all felt too cruel. Petra’s heart hurt for Dorothea and all the other Laguz out there who were victim to such meaningless violence. Even if members of the Laguz race _ had _ killed the Goddess, that happened over a thousand years ago. Modern Laguz weren’t responsible for the deeds of their ancestors. “There must be some way… for Beorc and Laguz to come together,” muttered Petra, looking defeated.

“It’s looking worse and worse,” Edelgard mentioned, looking the princess in the eye. “I was meaning to tell the rest of you about this later, but lately there’s been more and more hunting parties, _ especially _ in the Kingdom. Many of the nobles there are very devout, and have a fresh hatred for them due the Tragedy of Duscur. But the Knights of Seiros is advancing in on other territories. They intend to spread their hunting parties out into Empire territory, and even in the Alliance.”

Petra’s eyes widened. “What… are you saying?” she asked, her heart suddenly freezing. A lump formed in the pit of her stomach, heavy as a stone.

“I’m saying it’s more than likely that the Knights of Seiros will come here to… exterminate any Laguz,” the future emperor clarified. “They wish to exterminate all of them from Fódlan, as a punishment for their crimes against the goddess.”

No… it couldn’t be, could it? Then… then what of Dorothea? Her teeth clenched as she looked to her lap. Even though the herons were said to be a defenseless race, Dorothea had insisted that she had taught herself how to fight in case she ever needed it. But against an entire army? She had to warn her… to say _ something. _She immediately stood up. “I… I must be going,” Petra hastily choked out. Without another excuse, she scurried off. She knew it was too late to find Dorothea now, but she felt as though she had to escape from there. Her heart was pounding in a panicked frenzy, her throat dry with anxiety. Was it possible that she would lose Dorothea so soon to something so cruel?

Edelgard looked to Byleth, then back to the empty seat that Petra was occupying. 

“I wonder... if that’s really a feather she just happened to find,” Edelgard speculated.

Byleth shook her head. “I don’t think something like that happens by pure chance,” she agreed.

* * *

“Dorothea! Dorothea!”

Petra’s frantic cries echoed through the trees as she pushed her way through the forest towards the great tree. In her rush to find her lover, she had scraped herself amongst thorns numerous times and tripped more than she had ever before. In her mind, she knew that it was impossible for the Knights of Seiros to arrive so soon after Edelgard’s warning, but in her heart, her worry for Dorothea outweighed all else. When she stumbled into the clearing, she found a very confused Dorothea, still sitting high up in the tree.

“Petra?” she called out, standing up. “Is something wrong?”

“There is grave danger!” she warned. 

Clearly concerned, the heron leapt from the tree and fluttered down to the ground. Her distraught lover ran towards her, out of breath and covered in cuts and bruises. Petra buried her face into Dorothea’s shoulder and attempted to catch her breath. 

“Petra…” murmured Dorothea in concern, her hands snaking behind her lover’s back and stroking it reassuringly. “Are you alright? You look all beat up…”

“I… I am well,” she insisted. “I am… bringing terrible news.” She choked up for a moment, not wanting to wrestle with the idea of harm befalling Dorothea. “It is the Knights of Seiros… they are to attempt an extermination of Laguz in Empire territory.”

Dorothea remained silent. She took a deep breath in, and the tips of her fingers slowly drew up towards Petra’s braid. She began to fiddle with it, perhaps in a strange gesture of comfort or perhaps simply absentmindedly. “Who told you this, Petra?” she asked.

“Lady Edelgard… the future emperor. She is saying that the Church wish to remove all the Laguz from Fódlan. Because they had killed the Goddess in legend,” she repeated. “You must leave. I… I cannot have you dying…”

Petra was shaking in Dorothea’s arms, but Dorothea did not react outwardly. She sighed and continued to fiddle with her lover’s braid, simply holding her there for a quiet minute. When she finally spoke, it was not about the news in question. “My love, you’re all scratched up. I need to take a look at your wounds.”

“Wh… but, Dorothea—”

“—Come on, Petra! I’m pretty good at patching people up, if I do say so myself,” bragged Dorothea, completely changing the tone of the conversation. She pulled away from her lover and gave her a reassuring wink. “I can’t just leave you all covered in scratches, you know.”

There was no point in protesting. Dorothea lead Petra to a nearby stream, where she washed up all of Petra’s cuts and treated them with herbs that grew nearby. All the while, the potential for upcoming tragedy weighed heavily on the back of Petra’s mind. There was little Dorothea could do to distract her from it, not even her sweet talking could ease her lover’s anxiety. Once all had been taken care of, the two of them returned to the great tree and sat against the bark, as they always did.

“...Dorothea. I am worrying about you,” Petra spoke up, looking at her lover with near tears in her eyes. “I… I do not want to be losing you. If the Knights of Seiros are to come, then you must leave...”

The heron girl let out a small sigh and closed her eyes, looking tranquil and relaxed despite the news. “It’s all right, Petra,” she comforted the other girl, not sounding worried in the slightest. “I’ve survived this far, you know! And life at the Mittlefrank Opera Company wasn’t always easy. I had plenty of enemies, just by existing. There were a few people who tried to ambush and kill me before, and guess what? I broke their arms, snap! A thank you for all the trouble they caused me. They weren’t expecting a heron like me to fight back.” Even though Petra thought of such memories as harsh, Dorothea didn’t seem bothered by talking about it at all. In fact, she was smiling as though fondly recalling something precious to her. “I’m far from defenseless, despite what the legends say about the heron tribe. I won’t let some church knights take me down.”

Petra did not look convinced. “Dorothea…”

Dorothea opened her eyes and shifted to face Petra, her fingers reaching for her lover’s soft cheek. “I won’t go dying on you. I wouldn’t allow that, ever. I love you, after all!” she reminded her. “I wouldn’t risk our future together. I still haven’t seen Brigid with you.” 

Eyes watering, Petra’s heart couldn’t take the mere thought of losing Dorothea. She lunged forward without another word, pressing her lips to the former opera singer’s in a desperate kiss, an urgent need for contact and a reminder that her lover was still there. At first, the heron was too stunned to react to the bold move, but she soon closed her eyes and melted into the kiss. Their arms intertwined around each other’s bodies, Dorothea sinking into the grass, her wings spreading out to their full span against the ground. Petra kissed her as if Dorothea was on her death bed beneath her. A hot tear rolled off Petra’s cheek and onto Dorothea’s, forcing the former singer’s eyes open and her lips away from the kiss.

“Don’t cry, Petra!” laughed Dorothea. “I’m still here. I’ll always be here. Nothing’s going to drag me away from you now that we have each other, okay?”

“Dorothea… please promise me. Even if we are to be separated… I am wishing for you to return here some day. To this tree,” Petra requested, gazing deeply into her lover’s eyes with yearning, almost as if she were already preparing herself to one day look back on this moment with a broken heart. 

“Of course, Petra. And you too! This _ is _ our spot, after all,” Dorothea agreed, smiling with all the warmth of the sun. “This is where we met… where we fell in love.”

Their lips met again, this time in a clumsy flurry of emotion. Petra clung to the girl beneath her and Dorothea’s hands ran up and down her back, their hearts singing out for one another. The song they sang together was a serenade of passion and love, yet was not free of sorrow. There was also fear for days to come, for the people who wished to separate them. How they longed to go somewhere free of hatred, where their love would be blessed as any other. Their kiss did not last long, for they frequently broke apart to whisper to each other, a mix of “I love you”s and “don’t leave me”s. For this moment that they wished to last forever, they truly felt as one.

They held each other for hours and watched as the sun set, melting the sky into a deep orange. The wolves would be out soon, but Petra didn’t care. For the sake of her lover, she would stay as long as she could.

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Pegasus Moon**

They came on a cold winter day.

Petra remembered how the skies were a deep gray, as though the heavens themselves were preparing for tragedy. She leaned against a windowsill in what was supposed to be her room, but felt more like a prison. The Imperial Army treated her well enough, giving her comfortable sheets and allowing her to keep tanned hides to decorate. There was adequate room to spend at night, when she thought of nothing but longing for her homeland. Perhaps it would be different if she were just a visitor, but in the back of her mind, she would always recall her true purpose. Her life was at the mercy of the Empire, a token they so flaunted in front of Brigid as proof that rebellion was useless. But at the same time, Petra knew she had an ace up her sleeve.

The Imperial Army would not let her die, for they would lose their hostage. They would not shoot her down so easily or hastily. Should the time come that she ever needed to throw her life in front of another’s, then…

Something caught her eye beneath her room. For the last few weeks, a handful of Knights of Seiros had been occupying the Imperial army’s base camp. For the most part, they had really only been surveying the base and discussing relations with the prime minister, but they did on occasion set out in search out any Laguz that they could get their hands on. Fortunately, Dorothea was absolutely right when she said she would be hard to capture. She had managed to evade them entirely, strategically moving about the forest so that her location was never in line with the search party’s trail. A few times, Dorothea had joked about how she had hidden in the bushes while the Knights of Seiros walked right by her, completely oblivious to her presence. 

But this time, it seemed different. They were loading up wagons with explosive barrels and covering their horses with heavy armor, as if they were preparing for an all out war. Petra raised an eyebrow while trying to deduce what exactly was going on. 

Before she got the chance to fully analyze the scene in front of her, she heard a knock at the door. She did not have time to answer it, for it was quickly opened, revealing the tall, intimidating figure of Hubert. 

“Lady Edelgard has called a meeting,” he informed her. “I’d advise you not to be a minute late.”

Hubert was Edelgard’s terrifying retainer, capable of striking fear into the hearts of anyone who opposed her simply by glaring at them. Everything about him was, well, creepy, including what was supposed to be his laugh. Even though Petra knew that her position as a hostage meant that the Imperial Army couldn’t simply slaughter her, she still took Hubert’s subtle threats to heart. She’d rather not get on his bad side, as she had seen the pain he had inflicted upon enemies of the Empire before. “I will be going in a minute!” she informed him.

Hubert accepted this and closed the door, slinking back to whatever duties that Edelgard had planned for him. Petra, meanwhile, glanced back out the window, her eyes centered on the massive amounts of explosives that were being piled upon each other on the wagons. A sinking feeling overcame her heart, but she had to rip her eyes away. She had to go if she didn’t want to be late.

Petra navigated through the halls of the Imperial base, which had long ago become her home. Though it was difficult for the terrified little girl at first, she now knew it as well as her own room back in Brigid. She entered the strategy room, where she found the other army youth waiting for her, save for Edelgard herself.

“I’d rather not go on a mission so early,” yawned Linhardt, as lazy as always. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as if ready to take another one of his extensive naps.

“W-Why are there so many knights out there?” squeaked Bernadetta from underneath the table. “Are we going to war?”

“Aww yeah! I’m ready to punch some guys!” Caspar shouted, ever excited to fight. Petra could never understand why he was so eager to go to battle sometimes.

Byleth, who was sitting atop a desk in the front of the room, remained completely silent on the matter. She wasn’t much of a talker, despite being the strategist who was in charge of training the Empire youth. How a former mercenary gained such a position was never really known to Petra, but apparently Edelgard had recruited her after seeing an impressive display of strength. 

“Where’s Edelgard? If I were in charge, I would not be so late for my own meeting,” complained Ferdinand.

“Quiet now. Lady Edelgard will be here soon enough,” hushed Hubert, giving the prime minister’s son a harsh glare. 

And she was. Within the next two minutes, Edelgard walked through the door and glanced around to make sure her group was all in attendance. She took her position next to Byleth. “Listen well. I’m sure you’re all aware of the Knights of Seiros outside right now. Right now, the situation is dire. The Knights of Seiros have located a hidden tribe of beast Laguz living in the forest near our base. There’s an estimated a hundred or so Laguz living amongst them. As a result, the Knights of Seiros are intending to invade them and eradicate them… today.”

Chatter filled the room as the Empire youth expressed their worries. Though the topic of Laguz and their rights wasn’t exactly something that came up often, as far as Petra knew, none of them were outstandingly opposed to their existence. Her heart, however, had already nearly stopped. Dorothea was living in that forest. 

Edelgard unfurled a map and placed a finger upon the location of the forest. “They intend to attack from this side of the forest. For that reason, we must follow them on their mission. Our assignment is to make sure that they are able to carry out their attack without issue. Now—”

“—I cannot be allowing that!” Petra shouted, gaining the attention of all the others in the room. She knew that she as speaking out of turn, and that her words were to be viewed as heresy against the church, but she didn’t care anymore. She was the Empire’s hostage, after all, and even though Brigid was small and powerless, they would have all the wraith of her grandfather upon their shoulders if they were to strike her down for words. “Such hatred… it is far too cruel! We are to simply follow orders? These Laguz are to die for crimes they did not commit. I am simply not wishing to turn my blade on them…!”

Byleth sighed and looked at her feet, while Edelgard shifted uncomfortably. “Petra. I hear what you’re saying, but you have to let me finish. I too have my doubts about this.”

Still, Petra did not settle. Her mind was rushing all over the place. How long until the knights left on their mission? Where was Dorothea? She had avoided confrontation and capture thus far, but this time, there was an entire army with horses and…

...Barrels of fire and explosives.

Petra remembered the stories. Of what had happened to Serenes Forest, the home of the heron’s Laguz. How the Kingdom and the knights had arrived and set fire to the trees, how it had burnt for over three days and extinguished all lives within. It wasn’t just the Laguz who were going to die—the entire forest was to be burned. 

“I must be going now!” Petra shouted. She had not a moment to waste if she wanted Dorothea to make it out alive. “There is something I must be doing!”

She didn’t even wait for Edelgard’s protest. The princess of Brigid burst out of the doors, her footsteps ringing out throughout the hallways as she sprinted like she never had before. The sword at her belt and the heron’s feather tied to it swayed back and forth like a boat upon a stormy sea. Edelgard yelled out to her from behind her, but her words fell on deaf ears. Nothing could stop her now. 

* * *

Petra did not stop until she reached the great tree, her legs feeling as though they were about to give out. She did not listen to her body’s protests, not even as she nearly collapsed upon the grass beneath her. Her whole world was spinning, her vision dizzy and her lungs begging her for air. Shakily, she stumbled forward and nearly into the great tree itself, using her arms to support her against the bark. She didn’t even have the strength to scream out Dorothea’s name.

Speaking of Dorothea, where was she? It was earlier than their intended meeting time, but at a time like this…! Petra’s mind was racing, wondering if Dorothea had already been captured, or even killed! In a panic, she could no longer hold herself up, her anxiety forcing her to crumple to the ground in a helpless heap. Her mind could only focus on thoughts of death and torment. She thought of Dorothea, her body burning amongst the flames of war as she cried out for help that would never come. She thought of the knights throwing a spear through her stomach and felling her immediately, before she even had the chance to fight back. Her chest heaved up and down, her body shaking, her eyes wide open, feeling as though they would never open again if she were to close them. She held her knees to her chest as waves of panic and fear pulsed through her body like convulsions. She felt trapped in a never ending void of her thoughts, and she was unable to see the light. The world around her had all but faded. She was struggling to breathe.

“Petra… Petra…” a soft voice called out to her, but she was barely aware of it. She hardly even noticed as her head was lifted onto a lap, fingers tangled in her hair. “Petra. I’m here, Petra.”

Her eyes lazily focused upwards on a blurred figure while her hand stretched forward, feeling as though she was reaching for something she couldn’t touch. “Dorothea…?” she choked out. The haze of panic and confusion did not clear, but she was able to focus on the concerned face above her, her lover looking as though her heart was about to break from seeing Petra in such a state. 

“What’s wrong, Petra?” she asked, anguish in her voice. “You’ve never been like this before…”

“It… is too late,” she gasped out. “The forest… it is…”

“...What, Petra?” Dorothea breathed. 

But Petra never got a chance to answer. A massive explosion in nearby nearly made Dorothea jump right up. The sound was so loud that it vibrated throughout the trees, causing birds to squawk out in fear and take to the air. Petra looked up as a flock of sparrows fled in a mass panic, soon clouding the sky above. It had already begun. 

“What was—…” Dorothea stopped as she took a deep breath of musky smoke, coughing violently. She nearly keeled over, but the weight of Petra on her lap prevented her from collapsing. Her eyes widened as she focused her gaze on the distance, hardly visible behind a wall of trees…

Petra rolled off her lover and shakily stood to her feet, forcing herself to move even through the waves of panic that were overtaking her. She saw sparks, sparks that were growing and consuming the trees in a cascade of fire like a hungry beast. The quickly growing flame was hurtling straight towards them with no intention of slowing. Despite the danger, Dorothea had not moved. When Petra looked into her lover’s eyes, she saw true fear. 

It was as though she was seeing the fall of her home right before her own eyes. She had not been there when Serenes Forest burned, but the stories she had heard had surely haunted her—of burnt bodies found lying helplessly in the ash and dirt, of wings scorched free of their feathers. She was frozen to the ground, her hand covering her mouth. Violent history was repeating itself right in front of them, and they could do nothing to stop it.

“Dorothea!” Petra shouted. “Please! You must be running!” 

Dorothea snapped out of her stupor. She flinched and looked at her lover. She did not waste another second. The heron grabbed Petra’s hand and made a mad dash for the opposite direction of the flames, stumbling over thickets and thorns. The ever growing storm bolted after them as if it were starving for their flesh. As Petra looked over her shoulder, she watched as the vicious flames swallowed the great tree whole.

The two of them ran like never before as the world before them crumbled. It was like a living nightmare that Petra never allowed herself to think of after Dorothea’s reassurance. Though her body was still screaming from her journey here, the princess of Brigid knew that she could not allow herself to slow down. Dorothea was tugging her all the way, forcing her forward even on stumbling, shaky legs.

“If we are to reach the forest’s exit, we shall be safe!” Petra shouted to her lover.

If only it were that simple.

When the Kingdom and the knights burnt down Serenes Forest, they did not leave and simply let the flames take care of their work. They stood there with bows and swords and struck down whichever herons managed to outrun the hurricane of fire. It was no different from then. The two of them were forced to halt in their tracks as they caught the back of a knight, who quickly turned on their heel and huffed.

“What do we have here?” he spoke, his voice almost taunting. “A heron? I thought we had gotten rid of all of you four years ago.” His hand withdrew his sword from its hilt, pointing it at the two of them without hesitation. 

Petra quickly stood in front of Dorothea, holding her arms out. “You will not be killing her!” she shouted, as if challenging the knight. “I will not be allowing it.”

The knight burst into laughter. “Are you from Brigid? I recognize those marks on your face. Get lost, kid,” he ordered. 

“I am Petra Macneary, the princess of Brigid!” she declared. “You will not be taking anymore lives. In Brigid, we do not have hatred for the Laguz, but in Fódlan, you have nothing but cruelty. I will not back down.” In a blink of an eye, she too retrieved her sword from her belt and held it out to the much bigger knight. “If you are wishing to fight, then I will be fighting!”

The knight grumbled and shook his head. “I didn’t sign up to kill a damn princess today,” he groaned. “But orders are orders, I guess.”

The two lunged at each other, steel meeting steel. The knight was far bigger than Petra, but she was quicker than he was. She had been trained in speed and stealth, and danced out of the way of his strikes as though she was an actress upon a stage. The end of her blade struck the knight’s armor, aggressively slashing at it. She aimed for a chink between the plates of his chest and his stomach, hoping to impale him upon her blade, but he was quick to counter with a slash of his own. Their exchange of strikes and dodges continued onwards, with neither of them relenting. 

From behind, Petra heard a war cry. She turned on her heel and saw a knight hoping from the trees, his blade positioned for Dorothea’s throat. She had little time to react. She threw herself to intercept, her sword aiming for a fatal blow. The knight gasped out as her sword pierced directly through his stomach, up to the hilt. He could only fall backwards as the blade withdrew from his flesh. Meanwhile, the knight in front of her used the opening to go Petra’s side.

A storm had been light within Petra’s heart. Like a ferocious tiger, she cried out and pounced upon her prey. Her sword ripped through flesh, and she was numb to his dying cries as he too crumpled to the ground as nothing more than a corpse. She would not allow herself to die here! Her shouting attracted other knights, who quickly flanked her from the rear, but she did not allow her rage to settle. She was a swift assassin, a deadly shadow. She fought with all her heart, barely feeling some of the wounds she began to accumulate. A scratch there, a stray arrow there. It was though the spirits of Brigid themselves had possessed her, preventing her from feeling pain as she cut down her enemies. 

But it could not last. The fire had begun to enclose around them, and more and more knights were showing up. The two girls soon found themselves surrounded on all sides, with nowhere left to go. Petra backed up against Dorothea, eyes darting around for some sort of exit, but found none. She gulped.

“Dorothea?” she whispered.

“Yes, Petra?” replied Dorothea.

“Are you… no, do you remember… our promise?” she asked.

Dorothea gave her a small nod. “Of course, Petra.”

The promise that, should they be separated, the two of them would reunite at the base of the great tree where they had first met and fallen for each other. It was still fresh on Petra’s mind, especially now as their chances of escape looked more and more grim. A lump formed in Petra’s throat, her body beginning to tremble from all the fighting, all the running, all the emotions that had overtook her. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she knew in her breaking heart that there was no other choice. The future that she had feared would be upon them.

“Go now, Dorothea,” Petra ordered, her voice steady despite the thorns of despair leaching into her heart. “I will be fine.”

“I can’t just leave you, Petra,” Dorothea protested. Even though her lover was strong, there was little she could do against a hoard of angered, trained knights. “I—”

“—I will be fine,” Petra reassured her with a false smile. The least she could do was put on a strong face for her. “They cannot be killing a princess of Brigid. It would be bad for all of Fódlan. Just go. And remember our promise.”

Dorothea hesitated, but as she looked around, she knew in her heart that Petra was right. It was her they wanted dead, not the princess. She had never wanted things to come to this. She bit her lip as she too held back tears. “Of course. You’re right,” she murmured. It would not be long before the knights lunged at them, and she was losing time. She placed a light kiss to her beloved's lips, so quick that Petra barely had time to feel the warmth before it was gone.

The heron stepped forward, spreading her wings wide and looking towards the heavens. Through the smoke and dust, a small ray of sun shimmered down on her. She reached her hand out towards that spark, and closed her eyes. A brilliant light over took her as her body molded and shifted, feathers coating her entire being. Before Petra stood Dorothea in her beast form, a sight that she had not yet witnessed before. How strange, Petra thought to herself, that they spent all that time together, yet the first time she got to see what Dorothea looked as a heron was the last time they’d be together. 

The knights were taken aback by such a sight, momentarily stunned by the elegance of the creature before them. Even while transformed, Dorothea was still the epitome of beauty, with white feathers that shimmered like both the sun and the moon. How Petra wished she had more time to simply marvel at such a wonderful sight. Dorothea’s wings unfurled fully as she launched herself into the air, shooting towards the sky above like an arrow. She soared above the smoke and flames freely, almost as though she was dancing amongst the clouds.

“Fly!” shouted the anguished Petra, her eyes spilling over with tears. “Fly away now, Dorothea! Fly far from here!” Her voice was hoarse with tears, but she forced herself to yell so that her lover would hear her one last time.

The knights were brought to life by Petra’s words. An archer pointed their bow towards the sky, but before he could shoot, the princess of Brigid tackled him to the forest floor. Exhaustion was overtaking her, but she could not allow them to claim Dorothea’s life. The other knights quickly surrounded her, grabbing her body and prying her off of the man as she continued to struggle.

“You will not be killing her!” she shouted as she struggled like a fish upon land. 

It took a few knights to finally subdue her. They pushed her to the forest floor, holding her head to the dirt. Exhaustion was overtaking her, and she could no longer struggle. A lady in armor withdrew a dagger and held it the cold blade to the princess’s throat. 

“Don’t bother fighting anymore, or we’ll kill you,” she hissed. 

Petra could only nod. Her eyes wearily looked up to the sky, seeing nothing left but smoke. Dorothea was gone. A bitter smile graced her features. She had succeeded, and that was all that mattered. 

“Let’s get her back to the Imperial Army,” one knight suggested. “I’m sure they’d love to hear about their hostage acting out of line.”

“They should have just kept her locked up, like any other hostage. Seems like a no brainer to me,” scoffed another. 

Petra felt rage boil in her heart, but she could do nothing. Her body was completely limp. A man scooped her up over his shoulder and began to walk from the forest, the others following. Behind them, the fire continued to rage on, swallowing the remains of the forest a bunch of Laguz once called home.

* * *

“I believe this is yours.”

Petra’s exhausted and bleeding body was dumped on the ground in front of Edelgard von Hresvelg’s feet haphazardly. She could hardly feel the pain of her wounds anymore. Her heart was torn into a billion pieces. Not only did Dorothea have to leave, but countless Laguz surely perished in the blaze, and for what? A millennia of nothing but pointless hatred? She wanted to cry, but there were no more tears left to shed. She was but a broken husk.

“A word of advice. Keep better eyes on your so-called 'guests,'” the knight spat, kicking Petra’s body towards Edelgard. “This one got a few of ours.”

“You chose not to kill her,” Edelgard remarked. 

“That’s for Lady Rhea to decide,” the knight replied. “Traitors are usually executed in whatever method she desires.”

Edelgard bent downwards, holding her hand to Petra’s neck in order to check her pulse. “I see,” she spoke. “Well, thank you for sparing her for the time being. I’d hardly know what to do if word got out that we allowed for the princess of Brigid to be killed.”

Petra’s eyes began to close, her body giving out. She could barely remain conscious, the weight of her actions barely even on her mind. If she were to be executed, so be it. This cruel world she lived in was corrupt and full of nothing but hatred. Bigoted thoughts had torn her away from her lover, who had done nothing but be who she was. Perhaps it was foolish to throw her life away for a woman when she was barely seventeen years old, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter what relationship she had with Dorothea, fighting and standing up for justice was a noble decision. 

Consciousness was fading from her body. She could barely focus on the world around her, lost in her thoughts as she made peace with herself. She almost didn’t even notice the sudden sound of shouting, followed by clashing blades. Was someone fighting? Her eyes peeked open as she caught sight of a Knight of Seiros on the floor, Edelgard’s axe in their bleeding chest.

She forced her dizzy consciousness back into reality, though she coughed violently as she struggled to stay awake. 

“Listen well, Knights of Seiros!” Edelgard was shouting. “I, Edelgard von Hresvelg, have had enough of this cycle of hatred! The church dictates our very lives, decides our value based on status and species. And for what? Only for their own selfish desires to maintain control over every life in Fódlan. Well, not anymore! For I have taken the crown, and as the new Emperor of the Adrestian Empire, I hereby declare war on the Church of Seiros. For all the lives taken, Beorc or Laguz, out of nothing but violent hatred. I shall bring in a new era for Fódlan!” 

Her declaration of war was loud and bold, so that every knight before her could hear of her ideals. Petra wished to react, but she simply had no more strength. Since when had Edelgard taken the crown, anyway? She hadn't heard anything about that. There was so much to think about, but she was so, so very tired… Her eyes closed as she gave into her exhaustion, finally allowing her aching body to rest. The last thing she remembered hearing were the cries of war, and Edelgard shouting orders to her fellow Empire soldiers.

* * *

Petra next woke up in the infirmary of the Empire base, her mind swirling about. She could remember how Dorothea had flown away, how the forest had burnt to a crisp, and how Edelgard had suddenly announced that she had taken over the throne and declared war on the church. Oh spirits, what had happened!? She shot up in the bed, her body protesting as aches and pains wracked through her. Her teeth clenched together as she did her best to bear the agony she was in. She had far too many questions to be stuck in bed!

“Don’t strain yourself, Petra!” Manuela shouted frantically. “You’ve been through far too much to fight. Just lie down.”

Petra looked to the side of her bed, seeing the former opera star sitting next to her on a chair. “...I… I do not have understanding. There were… shouts. Of war. Lady Edelgard had been attacking a knight?”

Manuela sighed. “I hardly ever expected to be involved in a war, but it seems like that’s what we’ve gotten ourselves into,” she lamented. “But I heard that _ you _went running off without orders straight into the battle! You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Petra’s gaze shifted to the ceiling of the infirmary, breathing in and out steadily. She didn’t really have any excuses for her panicked actions, and while it was true that she had acted out of turn, she had managed to spare Dorothea from a fiery fate. If she hadn’t been there, would Dorothea have been caught amongst the flames? Her heart throbbed as she recalled the fact that she was now all alone, stuck in what was now being called a war. When Edelgard had declared her intentions to fight, she had mentioned how she felt that cycle of war and hatred between Laguz and Beorc was unfair, and how she wished to bring in a new era. Petra swallowed nervously. Edelgard had those intentions all along…?

“I needed to be going,” Petra vaguely explained. “Someone was needing me.”

Manuela shook her head with another sigh. “Kids these days,” she muttered.

“...Where is everyone?” Petra had to ask. Besides her and Manuela, there was no one else in the infirmary, and the halls were oddly silent given what had just happened. 

“Fighting off the Knights of Seiros. It’s unbelievable…” Manuela muttered. “I suppose it’s all for a good cause. When I heard that they had burnt down the forest, I wanted to fight them myself! But Lady Edelgard insisted that someone needed to look after the wounded, so… here I am.”

She was missing out on a grand battle? Surely her assistance was needed? But the state of her body quickly reminded her that she was unfit for any sort of battle at the moment, so she did not make a single move. Perhaps she should be feeling more strongly about the events around her, but her heart and mind felt hollow. Within a single day, she had lost someone precious to her and nearly gotten killed for it. It was though all her emotions had been drained from her, leaving behind nothing but a husk of who she once was. Petra rolled over to her other side and stared out the window, watching as smoke swirled in the air from the still burning flames. She didn’t say a single word. She didn’t even know how to feel.

A war. She wouldn’t be heading back to Brigid anytime soon, it seemed. But at least with this, she had avoided execution. Edelgard would surely understand her actions, even if they were reckless and foolish. One of her hands clenched into a tight fist. If this had to happen for a better world, than so be it. She would train harder, grow stronger, so that she could bring about a better Fódlan. Maybe then, if they could win, then Dorothea and her would be able to come back together, this time free to simply be in love without fear of hatred. 

“Just wait for me, Dorothea,” she whispered, so quietly that Manuela didn’t hear a peep. “I shall be coming back to you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really didn't mean for this to be so fucking long, but I had to break it up into two parts because of how long it was getting. I meant for this to be around 6,000 or so words of just different moments between these two, but uh. It got out of hand, especially towards the end.
> 
> Part Two should be shorter, I hope. If you read all this, then hi! Thanks.


	2. Crimson Rose: Heron's Harmony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much for this being a two shot. I had to split it again because it got too long.
> 
> oh well. more petrathea for you guys.

**Part Two: Crimson Rose**

**Imperial Year 1183**

**Pegasus Moon**

Three years. It had been three years since the forest of the Adrestian Empire had burnt to cinders, leaving nothing but ash and torn memories in its wake. Petra still remembered that day like it had happened mere seconds before, the wounds still fresh in her heart. Since then, the Imperial Army had managed to overtake the central church and forced the knights and the archbishop to flee to the Kingdom, where they were being protected by the new king. Meanwhile, over in Alliance territory, their new leader was keeping neutrality in the fires of war. Though so much had happened over three short years, it also felt as though nothing at all had happened. The war was in the state of deadlock, with no sides making their moves.

That was due in part to the losses the Adrestian Empire had suffered as a result of the very first battle. Though they had emerged victorious over the Church of Seiros on that fated day, many soldiers had perished in the battle. Their instructor and Edelgard’s closest ally, Byleth, had completely vanished. Even though frantic searches continued even to this day, no trace of her had ever been found. Petra had never seen Edelgard so very devastated. Though she had tried to hide her heartbreak, Petra could always hear soft cries coming from the emperor's room at night.

Petra gazed at the ashen sky from her position on the balcony. Ever since the fire, it felt as though the skyline was almost always painted with darkened clouds. Ash still blew in the wind, carrying remnants of plants and even lives lost as a result of that day. She now wore her longer hair in a ponytail rather than a braid, and adorned her body in colorful necklaces and jewelry that had been sent over to her as a gift from her grandfather. Not once had she gotten to visit Brigid, for her duties in the Imperial army had tied her to the Empire permanently. How strange to think that soon, she would have spent more of her life in Fódlan than the land she was born in. Her new clothing consisted of a top and skirt from her homeland, one that proudly showed off the many tattoos upon her skin. She felt far more comfortable in her new attire than that standard Empire youth uniform, far less restricted. 

If only Dorothea could see her now. 

Petra would sometimes visit the remains of the forest. Very little had survived, but the great tree was still there, toppled over with the bark scorched but not in cinders. She would sometimes simply sit there, waiting for a sign from her lover. Absentmindedly, Petra played with the feather that was now tied to one of her necklaces, hanging for all to see. It was the only thing she had left of Dorothea.

Sometimes, she wondered if Dorothea was even still alive. She truly had no way of knowing if she had been shot down by archers as she made her escape, or if the Laguz hunters had caught her moons or even years later. But in her heart, she could still hear their song when she closed her eyes. It was the same song that had been echoing within her on the day that Dorothea had Dorothea had rested her head upon her chest and instructed her to listen deeply to the melody of their love. Petra told herself every day that if Dorothea were truly gone, then the song would have ceased a long time ago. In spite of how long it had been since the two of them had seen each other, it still called out for her, just as strongly as it had done on the day that they had come together. 

Petra closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing the melody to overtake her. Her heart spoke in a mixture of languages, some words of which she didn’t even know the meaning of, but she still knew what they meant. They were words of love, of passion, of longing. Even though three years had gone by, her love for the woman had not dampened. There had been a few suitors that had approached her, mostly out of curiosity, but she had spurned their advances. She refused to give up on hope that her beloved would one day return, refused to give up her belief in Dorothea.

She placed her hands together in a silent prayer, calling out to the spirits of Brigid to protect Dorothea from harm, as she had done for the last three years every day. 

“Petra, there you were,” Edelgard interrupted. Petra’s eyes opened as she turned around to face the new emperor, whose attire had changed as well to suit her new status. She was dressed in her golden crown and a deep red coat that demanded attention from everyone who laid eyes upon it. “We were about to have a strategy meeting with the rest of the Strike Force.”

“Ah, yes. I will be coming shortly,” Petra assured the emperor. Though she had three years extra of practice with the language of Fódlan, she was still far from mastering it. “I was communing with the spirits of Brigid.”

Edelgard nodded. “I can see that.” Her eyes drifted downwards, towards the heron feather that rested proudly upon Petra’s chest. The feather had not escaped Edelgard's notice when it had first been strung upon her beaded necklace, and often times, Petra caught the emperor's eyes gazing it as though she were studying it for answers to questions she had not dared ask. “...You had said before, that in Brigid, that the Beorc and Laguz get along. Is that true?”

“Yes!” answered Petra. “Though, it is more like… Beorc and Laguz are acquaintances. They do not fight, but they do not interact much beyond trade. It is peaceful. When I came to Fódlan, I did not have understanding of such conflict.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s all rooted in old legend,” Edelgard replied. “But by the time we’re done here, the legend will be dismantled. I will have peace in Fódlan, no matter what the cost…”

As Petra observed her emperor, she wondered where Edelgard’s ideals came from. She seemed deeply chained to the issues of which she preached, though she gave no indication of where they came from. Perhaps one day, she would have to ask in more detail, but it simply was not the time. 

“Come now. We don’t want to keep Hubert waiting,” Edelgard reminded her. She turned away from Petra and strode past the glass-paned doors without another word.

Petra gave one last glance to the clouded sky. Somewhere, was Dorothea looking at the same sky? Had she moved on from their romance, or did she still carry Petra with her in her heart? Where in the world was she? So many questions, and yet, the last three years had given her no answers. Deciding it was worthless to ponder over such matters when she had other things to attend to, Petra stepped away from the balcony and followed Edelgard.

The Brigid princess took her regular seat in the tactics room, towards the front. Everyone else had already gathered, most of them looking rather dreary and tired. The last three years had taken their toll on everyone in the army, especially Edelgard. Hubert was standing in front of the giant map that covered a large portion of the front wall, showing the entire continent of Fódlan in detail along with some surrounding nations, including Brigid. 

“Now that we’re all in attendance, let’s discuss the events of the last month…” Edelgard began.

Tactics meetings were usually simple recaps of movement within the other territories, as well as discussions on hints Imperial spies had picked up on. Petra wasn’t always the best at keeping up with some of the terms they used, which is why she usually brought a dictionary with her so she could fully understand the phrases that her fellow soldiers were using. Though they were often drawn out and boring, Petra often listened intently and took a few notes, in hopes that any little hint might lead her closer to her lost lover. Occasionally, they would discuss movements of Laguz tribes, but nothing particularly stood out to her. A majority of Laguz tribes had left Empire territory, and those few that were still there had offered their service to Edelgard. Occasionally, Petra would see Laguz soldiers wandering about the base, and they were treated just as any other. 

But it was not just for the Laguz and her lover that Petra fought. Ever since she had been pried from the hands of her grandfather and plopped in an unfamiliar country that so cruelly kept her homeland in its chains, she had developed a dream, a dream where Brigid could break free from its binds to Fódlan and live as an independent nation. As the future princess, she knew that the fate of her homeland rested solely in her hands, and for her beloved Brigid, she would fight tooth and nail to see that dream bloom to fruition. Once Fódlan could rid itself of the Church that so cruelly dictated the lives of its citizen, and once Edelgard could ascend as the ruler of all its territories, she knew that she could negotiate a favorable treaty.

“Furthermore, it appears the Kingdom has taken steps towards Alliance territory,” Edelgard was speaking, her finger pointed towards the border of Kingdom territory. “As you may know, the Alliance has always been a little more lenient with Laguz tribes. Some say it’s possible that the Alliance leader has even been granting supplies to those tribes. As far as we know, they haven’t made any attempts on the lives of Laguz since the forest was burnt, but it’s highly possible they might target Laguz again, as they _ are _natural enemies of the Knights of Seiros. Taking down potential allies is key to breaking down Alliance structure.”

“Are you saying the Alliance is working with Laguz?” Caspar asked.

“It is possible, yes, but we don’t have any concrete evidence beyond rumors.” Edelgard clarified. “However, Claude refuses to make any public statements on his stance on the war.”

“I am thinking that Claude does not seem like the type to be hating the Laguz,” Petra spoke out loud. Though she had yet to meet the Alliance leader in person, she had heard plenty about him. He seemed to be more of a schemer and a trickster than someone who held genuine malice in his heart, not to mention how he had suddenly appeared and claimed the title of Leader of the Alliance. Something was surely different about him in that regard.

“True, but we can’t be making any assumptions,” Edelgard pointed out. “Fact of the matter is, we have to be aware of any potential sieges on Alliance territory by the Knights of Seiros. If they truly wish to attack Alliance Laguz, then it is our duty to intervene. We _ are _fighting for the unification of Beorc and Laguz, after all. Another potential genocide on an entire tribe of Laguz is hardly something we’d want on our hands. We can’t have the incident at Serenes Forest repeated once more.”

Petra’s fingers fiddled with the heron’s feather on her necklace absentmindedly, thinking of the former homeland that Dorothea had fled long before the massacre had taken place. She had never been there herself, but she wondered if Dorothea had decided to go back to her homeland. Of course, it was no longer a sustainable place to live after it had been reduced to dust, but surely she had at least visited. Perhaps, she thought, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to observe Serenes Forest for herself in search of any clues.

“For that reason, we’ll be sending several pegasus knights and wyvern knights to oversee the area,” Hubert continued onward from his liege’s explanation. “I should hope everyone here will prepare for a potential battle.”

With that, the strategy meeting came to a conclusion. Everyone went their separate ways, some of them discussing rumors they had heard about the other territories. Petra, on the other hand, immediately made her way towards the training grounds. Ever since the war had begun and her body had become well enough to fight, she had taken about three or four hours out of her day every afternoon to make sure that her skills were up to par with expectations. Since then, she had managed to hone her abilities with a bow and a sword, and even learned how to fly upon a wyvern should she ever so need. Flying was intriguing to her, and she rather liked being up high from her numerous days of climbing trees as a little girl, but wyverns were even more interesting to her. Such steeds did not exist in Brigid, and learning their ins and outs had certainly been a task. They were sturdy and intelligent creatures, and once one had formed an understanding of their mount, their sometimes unpredictable temper could be tamed. When the war concluded and she had been sent back to Brigid, she would have to see about purchasing a few to introduce to the archipelago and raise. 

Maybe one day, she could even take to the sky alongside Dorothea.

Petra smiled wryly as she thought of such a thing. She allowed her mind to wander as she shined her sword. No matter where Dorothea was now, Petra truly hoped that she was safe and happy. When the day finally came for them to meet once more, Petra would proudly stand by Dorothea’s side and show her how much she’d grown, and lead her towards a peaceful future in a free Brigid. 

  
  


**Imperial Year 1183**

**Lone Moon**

Although a month had flown by, nothing of interest had occurred. It truly seemed as though the war was frozen in a state of uncertainty, each territory fearful of the potential of a surprise attack. Without their lead strategist and fighter, the Imperial Army felt like it was slowly losing its fire. Though Petra continued to train for the sake of her ideals and one day seeing her lover again, there was no doubt that on some days, her losses weighed far heavier than others. 

Of course, she was not the only one suffering from such heartbreak.

Petra’s curiosity about Edelgard had only gotten stronger and stronger. Though many chose not to question her unwavering motives, Petra couldn’t help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind all of her actions. Of course, a desire for peace wasn’t uncommon, but it was her wish for unity between the Laguz and Beorc that made Petra wonder.

They keyword that Edelgard always used was "unity." It would be one thing for there to simply be peace between the two species, as there was in Brigid. Neither of them ever bothered each other nor showed any interest in a potential union, but what Edelgard was aiming for was something more of an integration of both Laguz and Beorc. A society like that was far preferable to Petra, given her relationship with a certain heron, but where exactly did Edelgard’s wishes stem from?

It was not until a cold day that she received her answer. Though the Lone Moon often marked the end of winter and the coming of spring, it was more often than not chillier than one would expect it to be, especially compared to Brigid climate. Despite the weather, Petra found herself positioned outside upon the balcony, as she usually was whenever she felt as though she needed some fresh air. Fódlan didn’t exactly have the same places for her to rest, as the forest had burnt down and she no longer had a tall tree to climb whenever she wished to get a view of the world from above. The balcony made a pale substitute for the experience, but she couldn’t really complain when the view was more than satisfactory. 

Petra leaned on the rails and admired what fragments of beauty she could find in the still war-torn world. Though the gusts brought with it the taste of ash, she could still find admiration in the distant mountains still decorated with trees. She allowed the cool breeze to brush her ponytail in the wind, sighing softly. She shivered ever so slightly at the fading winter air.

“Aren’t you cold?” Edelgard’s voice called out to her from behind. 

Petra did not turn around. “I am fine. I have grown used to the cold of Fódlan,” she insisted. 

The emperor took her place beside Petra, leaning her elbows against the rails as she too observed the world around her. “I see… I’d imagine Brigid is much warmer. Your clothing isn’t exactly made for the occasion,” she pointed out. 

“In Brigid, we do not have such cold winters. So we do not have clothing for the weather,” Petra explained. She could easily borrow some of Fódlan’s clothing, but she felt far more comfortable in attire from her own land, even if that meant bracing winter air. 

“You must miss Brigid a lot,” Edelgard speculated. She did not look at the other woman as she spoke, instead gazing out towards the open landscape.

“I do,” Petra replied. "Every day, I am thinking about my homeland."

The two of them didn’t say anything to each other for a few minutes after that. They merely stood there, observing the winter breeze carrying fallen leaves with it. She had lived here for so long that Fódlan was becoming more and more like a second home to her, rather than a land that held her prisoner for their own benefit. She certainly didn’t feel much like an outsider anymore, thanks to the kindness the newly reformed Imperial Army had shown her at the hands of Edelgard. None of them treated her as an outsider anymore, rather, they had embraced her as one of their own. Her fingers drifted towards the heron feather tied to her necklace, running her fingers down its softness. _ If you could see this, Dorothea. I want to show you this world_.

This gesture did not go unnoticed by Edelgard, who caught it out of the corner of her eye. “Petra,” she began. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for… well, years now, but I just never got the chance.”

“You may be asking,” Petra replied.

“That heron’s feather you’ve had. You didn’t just find that by accident, did you?” Edelgard questioned, turning to face the Brigid princess. The knowing look in her eyes was enough for Petra to know that she had long ago caught on, and that lying now was useless. Besides, what was the point of lying, if Edelgard shared her dream?

“That is the truth,” Petra finally admitted. She did not look Edelgard back in the eye as she leaned forward on the rail, resting her crossed arms upon it. “It is belonging to someone… precious to me.”

“I thought that was the case,” the emperor replied. She too turned her eyes from Petra. “The way that you dove straight into the front lines without even being given the order upon hearing the Knights of Seiros planned to burn the forest… You’re a kind person, Petra, but you wouldn’t have done that if there wasn’t someone precious to you there. And the way you kept visiting that forest every day, sometimes for hours at a time… I didn’t want to say anything, because I know all too well how cruel this world is towards the Laguz. But someone like that… you must love them a lot.”

Petra grinned brightly. “Yes!” she replied enthusiastically, warm memories of her beloved Dorothea filling her. “We are in love! That is why I could not let her be killed. Even though I received many injuries, my mission was still full of success. For that reason, I do not have regret.”

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it seemed like Edelgard had suddenly become far more relaxed at the topic, her mask melting away like ice in the hot summer. “Oh? Tell me more about her,” she urged. 

Petra was happy to comply. “She has much beauty. And her voice was like a goddess. She showed me great kindness, even though I am from Brigid. She did not once poke fun of my way of speaking,” she reminisced, her feelings for her Dorothea gushing out in a waterfall of words that could not be stopped. “She told me many stories of her home, and of the Empire. When I was speaking of Brigid, she would always be listening, always ask to be hearing more about my homeland. And when I was not feeling well, she would be holding me in her wings and sing her songs. She had much gentleness. It is possible that I was feeling love for her the moment I first heard her voice.” Her hand hovered over her heart as words simply kept flowing. “She did not have a home of her own, so I would be bringing her my hunt every day. Sometimes, we would watch the sunset in the arms of each other. It was… the happiest I have ever been here in Fódlan.”

At the end of her ramblings, even Edelgard was smiling warmly. “Sounds like you two really loved each other,” she commented.

“Yes! More than anything!” gushed Petra. However, the mood suddenly turned a bit sour as she had to shift towards their current situation. “I… I had to say farewell to her. I am not knowing where she is now.”

Edelgard fidgeted slightly and gave Petra a saddened look. Was she empathizing with the other woman? She, too, had lost someone precious to her on that day. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out. 

The princess shook her head. “Your apologies are not necessary… Because I know she is alive.” Petra tapped the top of her chest, as Dorothea had done so long ago to show her the song in her heart. “In here. I can feel her song. My heart is still singing for her, as her heart is still singing for me. That is how I know.” Once again, Petra closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to dance in tune with the melodious harmony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. The breeze swept against her, swaying the feather upon her chest. “I may not be knowing where she is, but she is safe. So I have happiness and hopefulness that we will be meeting again.”

It seemed that the emperor was deeply moved by Petra’s words, as she had a wistful smile upon her face. “I’m sure you will.” She hesitated before speaking her next words. “It is possible that a large amount of refuge Laguz have formed a tribe in the Alliance, or so I’ve been hearing. If that’s the case, she may be amongst them.”

If that were true, then Petra was glad. Dorothea was surely surrounded by others, and not so painfully alone as she had been when the two of them had first met. “I have hopefulness that she is. And… I also am wishing that she has found other herons.”

“The herons...” Edelgard repeated. “Even though the entirety of Serenes Forest was burnt to a crisp, there’s still a scant few around, or so I’ve heard. I’m sure you already know about the Mittlefrank Opera Company.”

Of course, Edelgard had already figured out the identity of Petra’s mysterious lover. It wasn’t too hard to guess, given the scarcity of herons still left in existence. “Yes. Dorothea was telling me about how she had to flee. The threats she were receiving were many. I am wishing that I had gotten to see her on her stage… and I am sure she is wishing she could return to the stage someday.”

Edelgard wasn’t at all surprised by the mention of Dorothea’s name. “I saw her once or twice. I didn’t have much time to enjoy any of the operas, but she was stunning. She had a lot of fans… and of course, plenty of enemies.”

“When this dream is realized, and Beorc and Laguz are brought together, I am hoping to take her back onto the stage… and to Brigid. A Brigid that is free and peaceful. Though we are not having much communication with the Laguz in my land, I am hoping that I can be bringing all of us together as queen. That is my hope,” Petra continued onwards, her heart singing out for joy as she spoke of the promises the two had made long ago. 

“You're certainly an ambitious woman, Petra, and a more than capable leader,” Edelgard admired, "I have no doubt that you will make for an excellent queen."

"I am glad you are thinking so. I hope that one day, we can be shaking hands as rulers of our nations."

"Yes, I too share that same hope."

And then, silence once more. Petra gazed curiously at the woman by her side, who seemed to be lost in thought with a twinkle of nostalgia in her eye. Once again, Petra was forced to wonder about the motives behind her mysterious emperor, and now that she could see this emotional side of her, Petra was slowly realizing that perhaps her own story was hitting Edelgard herself close to home. She opened her mouth to ask, but shut it soon after. She was a mere guest here in Fódlan, and she couldn’t ask something so personal of the current emperor, for goodness sake!

However, as it turned out, she didn’t even need to ask. “I suppose it’s only fair of me to share with you the truth,” Edelgard suddenly spoke up, instantly grabbing Petra’s attention and causing the woman to glance at the emperor with full attention. “I, too, have suffered at the hands of pointless hatred. The cruelty of this land knows no bounds, not even towards one of its own rulers. Have you ever wondered why I always wear these white gloves?”

Petra shook her head. She hadn’t really thought much of Edelgard’s attire, taking it as more of a preference than anything else. 

Without further explanation, Edelgard slipped the silk glove from her left hand, revealing an intricate mark on the back of it. Petra had never seen one before, but she had heard of them. It was a Brand, an indication of Laguz blood flowing through Edelgard’s veins. “...I’ve been hiding this the whole time. My Brand,” she revealed, holding it out for Petra to see as clear as day. “Out of my ten siblings, I was the only one born with this Brand. Even though blood of the Laguz is said to be cursed, Brands grant power beyond Beorc limits. That’s why I was chosen as the heir to the Adrestian Empire… but that decision came at a price. My siblings were sacrificed in order to be used as test subjects, and countless Laguz were forced to give me their blood…” she recounted, the look in her eyes growing more and more pained as she struggled to speak with the steady voice of an emperor. “Because of this Brand, many have suffered for my sake. That’s why… I’ve vowed to dismantle this whole system. Hating and massacring the Laguz, yet using their power to make me even stronger. It’s all wrong. I haven’t… I… I wish to use this power that’s been granted to me in order to make things right.”

Petra blinked in surprise. So, the Empire had been utilizing the blood of Laguz and the lives of Beorc for experimentations? Or… was it even the Empire who had done such a thing? “...Who has been doing such awful things to Edelgard? I do not have understanding…” Petra had to ask, though her heart hurt for the emperor. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what sort of suffering she had been through.

“...I can’t say beyond an organization that has lived in the shadows for many years. Actions are continually being enabled by the Church despite their disagreements, and the corrupt woman in control: Lady Rhea.” Edelgard flinched. “I’m not the only one who was experimented on. Even Byleth… something was done to her body by that woman. Even though she herself has the power of a Laguz…”

This was getting even more and more confusing. There were far too many forces at work, too many different motives clashing, but all in the same direction. Petra wasn’t even sure where to start. 

“You said before… that you knew in your heart that Dorothea is still alive. It’s the same for me. I don’t know what happened to Byleth, or who took her, but… I just have a feeling that she’s alive.” Edelgard’s eyes focused upon the sun, slowly setting in the sky and turning it a warm orange. “But… now that we both understand each other, I want to help you find her.”

Petra’s eyes suddenly lit up. “You will be helping me!?” she basically shouted out. “You… you have my gratitude! But… what of the Instructor?” The girl was now realizing that the two of them were in incredibly similar situations, alone with the girl they loved missing. Knowing that, she was not unaware of what Edelgard must be feeling. 

Edelgard shook her head. “There’s nothing that can be done for now. As much as it pains me, we have absolutely no leads. It was as though she vanished into thin air. But for Dorothea, I’d imagine you have an inkling on where to begin looking. Isn’t that true?”

Well, there were plenty of places that Dorothea could be. If the rumors of the Laguz in the Alliance were correct, it was more than likely that she was amongst them. But there was somewhere else upon her mind. “Then… I am wanting to go to Serenes Forest,” she decided out loud. “I am knowing that it is completely ruined, but… I am thinking she went back to see her homeland. If I were her, that is where I would go to at least visit.”

Edelgard agreed with her idea. “I hardly think she would stick around, but it would make sense for her to go visit… perhaps we’d find some sort of clue. Besides, I’ve been meeting to go to Serenes Forest myself for quite some time. It might take a while for us to gather an expedition, but I’ll certainly keep it on a list of priorities.”

“You have my gratitude again, Lady Edelgard!” gushed Petra, her body nearly trembling from excitement. Of course, the remains of Serenes Forest were sure to be haunting, but even if it only gave them the slightest clue to where Dorothea was, that was a victory in her book! She wasn’t expecting to simply find her lost lover sitting there amongst the ruin, but in her mind, there was no doubt that Dorothea had at least been that way. Besides, it felt only right to see the former homeland of her lover for herself, after going on and on about how she wanted to bring Dorothea to her own land.

Just small steps closer. It wouldn’t be long until they were together again.

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Harpstring Moon**

The journey to Serenes Forest commenced two full moons later. The new year had come and celebrations had been held widely throughout the Empire despite the war, but Petra had been able to think of little else but the expedition. Serenes Forest was located towards the end of Empire territory and near the Kingdom, way back towards the sea, so it took quite some time for the expedition members to make the trip, even by horseback. 

But now, here she was. Petra stood in front of what used to be a beautiful forest, now little more than scorched earth. Beginning sprouts of new blades of grass were emerging from the blighted ground, the first signs of life in an otherwise barren forest. Fallen trees without greenery decorated the environment as far as the eye could see, not to mention the scattered skeletal remains of the tribe that once lived there buried underneath ash. Upon looking at the startling scenery, she felt a lump forming in her throat. 

“Yuck!” Caspar exclaimed as he looked upon the remains of the carnage. 

“There’s really nothing here,” yawned Linhardt. “What was the point of coming here?”

“Actually, I might need your help more so than anyone else, Linhardt,” Edelgard commented, glancing towards the sleepy noble.

Petra ignored the chattering from behind her, instead stepping forward towards the depths of the ruined forest. Surely Edelgard wouldn’t mind if she went off on her own. It wasn’t like she was going to run into much danger in a ruined forested on Empire territory, and even if she did, she was more than capable of fending for herself. She gave one final glance to Edelgard and the rest before diving deeper into what used to be the land of the herons: the land where her lover was born.

The Brigid princess wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. She hopped over burnt logs and bones, simply drinking in the morbid atmosphere. She trembled uncomfortably as she continued forward, swallowing her inner turmoil. This was only a portion of the hatred that Fódlan held, and one of the many horrors of war. In order to fight going forwards, she simply had to swallow her emotions and put on a brave face. Thankfully, there were far less remains than Petra had imagined, especially given how many lives were taken in the massacre.

It took a while of exploring, but eventually Petra came face to face with what looked like the remains of a shrine. The ground beneath her was paved in stone and scarcely touched by the embers of war. Cautious, Petra approached the shrine with curiosity, her eyes running up and down the crumbling remnants of a stone statue. Surely, this used to be a bustling place of worship for the herons. The princess of Brigid dropped to her knees beneath the structure, closing her eyes and placing the palms of her hands together. It only felt right to offer a prayer to the scorched woods and the departed souls. As she prayed, she called out to the spirits of Brigid to help ease the suffering of those lost within the flames and take them to a world free of hatred, where no one had to suffer for who they were. She whispered words in her native language from the bottom of her heart, expressing her desire to prevent such a tragedy from ever happening again.

Petra felt something calling out to her, tugging at her heart. Her eyes shot open as she glanced around, seeing nothing but the ruins around her. What was that? She closed her eyes again and concentrated hard on the sound of a distant voice, speaking to her melodically in a language long forgotten by time itself. Perhaps this was the voice of a heron, departed within the fires of hatred? It certainly seemed to be so, with the way their words twisted into a gentle, soothing song. Petra felt as though her burdens were being lifted from her shoulders, as though she was being forgiven for a sin she did not commit. She allowed the song to carry her deeper, to clear her mind of all her worries and despairs. 

Or… was that all her imagination? Petra’s eyes opened and she touched the top of her chest. There was no real way to tell, but being here made her feel a deeper connection to the melody in her heart, continuously playing a tender rhythm of love and sorrow. 

Then she caught sight of something glistening in the sun, upon the ruined statue. Petra’s heart began to race… could it be? She stood to her feet and approached the shattered stone, finding upon it a single, glistening feather, identical to the one that hung from her neck. She took the feather in her hands and gazed down upon it, listening as the music of her heart grew ever louder. There was no way something like this was a mere accident. It was a sign, from Dorothea herself. That she was indeed alive, and that she knew Petra still sought after her. 

“Dorothea… I have understanding now,” breathed Petra, holding the feather to her heart. “You have left this here as a sign that you have not forgotten me… but I am thinking that it is not possible for you to return to me yet.” She spoke to Dorothea as if the heron could hear her loud and clear, despite her absence. “I am still thinking of you every day. But you should be taking your time… and returning to me when it is safe. I will be waiting with patience.” 

Petra held the feather to her lips and placed a gentle kiss to it, and then slipped it away where she would not forget. This journey to Serenes Forest was absolutely not a waste. She had learned more than she could have possibly imagined, and only from a single feather. Looking at the shrine one last time, Petra wished a thank you to the spirits of the forest, and to the herons that once dwelled there. She turned and began to walk back, a confident smile upon her face.

As she was about to step away from the paved ground, she suddenly froze in place, her eyes going wide. A gust of wind passed by, and with it, words spoken in a distant yet familiar voice.

_ “I know now. I know the true meaning behind the massacre at Serenes Forest…” _

Petra glanced around, but saw nothing. Who had been speaking to her? She blinked in confusion, but found no answers in the scenery around her. Was it, perhaps, a message from the spirits themselves? But why one so vague?

She swallowed and stepped forward once more, the winds now silent, but the words remained etched in the back of her mind. The true meaning behind the massacre… was there one beyond just a false vengeance? But why go out of the way to burn Serenes Forest when Duscur had already supposedly paid for their sins? There were so many pieces that simply made no sense, as though they belonged to a different puzzle altogether. Petra bit her lip, many questions suddenly swirling about in her mind. 

It seemed that there was something far, far more sinister at work.

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Garland Moon**

For the next two moons, Petra drowned herself in research. She felt as though she must have removed every history book from the Empire library, looking for hints of what the voice on the wind meant. The more she looked into it, the more confused she got. The actions of the Church of Seiros simply made no sense. Torching Serenes Forest certainly seemed as though it was done almost out of opportunity rather than a genuine concern that they had been involved in the killing of Faerghus’s king. The herons had always been an isolated tribe, and even though it wasn’t like they weren’t capable of harming someone, the herons always preached peace above anything else. The citizens of Serenes Forest lived quietly in harmony with one another, possessing no desire to start war. Most of them weren’t even taught how to fight. How such a tribe could have played a part in the tragedy of Duscur was beyond Petra. 

It was almost as though someone had used Duscur as a distraction, a disguise. The real reason for the burning was not because they had genuinely thought the herons responsible, but something else entirely. There was a missing link somewhere, that connected this to the destruction of the Adrestian forest, the disappearance of instructor Byleth, and the ongoing war. But what it was, Petra could not figure out. The only real clue she had were Edelgard’s words.

_ “I’m not the only one who was experimented on. Even Byleth… something was done to her body by that woman.” _

It was all so confusing. Petra placed her head upon the pages of the book she was reading. It was the middle of the day, but she was already feeling tired from thinking too hard. 

“Finally realized the benefits of taking a nap?” Linhardt commented from his seat adjacent to hers. Whenever the lazy boy wasn’t dozing off, he was burying himself in his personal research. 

“No… I am thinking too hard. My head is hurting,” Petra confessed. “It is bad to be napping in the middle of the day.”

Linhardt sighed and shook his head. “You _ have _ been diligent in your research lately, ever since we went to Serenes Forest. Have you gained an interest in the Laguz bloodline?” he asked.

“Are you knowing something I do not?” Petra questioned.

“Well, it _ is _interesting, isn’t it? Herons have always been known for their ability to heal and inspire with their songs. I hear that people who inherit their blood of the Herons have magical abilities… but I’ve never met someone with a heron Brand. So it’s just a rumor,” Linhardt detailed, leaning back in his chair. It was only when he got to talk about such things that he didn’t look milliseconds from falling asleep. 

“Is it possible that someone was wishing to be harming the herons for that?” the princess of Brigid further inquired.

Linhardt sighed. “I don’t have a solid yes or no answer for that, but it’s possible. I _ do _ have to research it further, but I’ll let you know if I figure anything out.”

“You have my gratitude, Linhardt!” Petra thanked him, standing up. This headache was going to grow far too strong if she bothered to read more text with words that were sometimes too complicated for her to understand. “I shall be counting on you, then!”

The scholar waved his hand dismissively. “Sure, sure. Now then, if you’re going, then I can… mmm…” He yawned into the palm of his hand before settling his head upon the table, eyes drooping. 

Petra would normally scold him for his bad habits, but she chose not to this time. He _ was _going to do her a favor, after all. She left the library with a newfound spark, but the awful pain that was circulating through her brain prevented her from doing much else besides making her way to her room and laying atop her bed, massaging her temples. Perhaps if Linhardt was going to work with her to figure this all out, then the truth would not be out of her grasp for much longer. Petra sighed deeply and closed her eyes, not to nap, but just to rest her vision for a moment. 

As she rested, she could have sworn she heard a distant voice calling her name, beckoning her closer. Confused, Petra shifted to her side and placed her hand upon her heart, listening to the ever present song. Was it just her, or had it gotten louder? Her heart skipped a beat. 

It was probably nothing but her imagination. 

* * *

It was towards the end of the moon when she noticed the distant winds beckoning to her. Petra stood atop the balcony, the breeze carrying her flowing ponytail and the whispers of her name. Her fingers outstretched towards the distance, as if reaching for something that was not there. A lump formed in her throat, a mixed concoction of anxiety and anticipation bubbling in her stomach. Petra leaned against the cold steel fence, the only barrier between her and the ground below. Her eyes closed as she listened to the wind, repeated calls of her name turning from a whisper to a shout. Was this too her imagination, just like the calls at Serenes Forest? 

The melody within her heart turned from sweet to frantic. Her brows furrowed as she tried to decipher the meaning behind this sudden change in tune, her breath catching in her throat. Something wanted her. 

_ Where should I go? _She asked the familiar voice upon the wind. 

_ Follow your heart. _Was the answer she got.

Puzzled, Petra scratched her chin. The voice in her heart sure loved to give her vague answers. She closed her eyes and allowed the hectic song to carry her. She stepped away from the steel fence and turned back towards the hallway. She wandered through corridors, allowing her heart to steer her towards her destination. Without letting a single soul know, she stepped free of the base and wandered deeper into Empire territory, not even stopping to let the guards know what she was doing. She felt as though if she broke her concentration, she would lose her way.

She briefly hesitated as the whispers of her name led her to the entrance of what was formerly known as the Adrestian forest, now just ruined trees and cinders. This was the path she would take every day to meet with Dorothea, before cruel fate forced them apart. She took a deep breath before continuing onward, following the remains of a world once bright and flourishing. As she got further and further, the music in her heart began to call out to her, reaching to her with its warm embrace out and enveloping her very being in the essence of the song. She shivered at the tendrils of music grasping for her heart, pulling her closer, closer…

Then she realized the song wasn’t in her heart. 

She nearly froze to the soil beneath her shoes, a gasp leaving her mouth. A familiar voice echoed out through the ruined forest, just as it did on that fateful day nearly four years ago. Suddenly, Petra was running, the heels of her shoes nearly catching themselves on fallen branches more times than she would like to admit. She sprinted like a wild wolf who had caught a whiff of a deer, not even stopping to allow her body a breath of air. Though the world around her was scorched and unrecognizable as the forest she once knew, her instincts knew exactly where to go.

Petra stepped into the clearing, and her heart nearly stopped. The great tree was toppled over on its side, bark scorched and branches barren of their leaves, but still there. Atop the fallen log was a beautiful figure, back to Petra, singing out to the ruined forest. She wore a long, crimson red dress that revealed the skin of her back and allowed room for her giant, white wings to spread from her back. Her signature black cap was gone, and her brown locks flowed freely down her shoulders, but it was unmistakably _ her. _

The Beorc woman couldn’t speak. She simply stood there in awe, slowly approaching as the beautiful song reached her heart. Her mouth lay agape as she gazed upon her long lost lover. It had been so long since she had heard her voice like this, but Dorothea sounded even more beautiful than Petra remembered. She allowed herself to get lost in the sound of her lover’s voice, time feeling as though it had come to a standstill. How many times had she longed for this moment?

Dorothea sang onwards for minutes, until her song was finished. She turned around and smiled warmly towards Petra, not looking the least bit surprised to find her standing there. “You finally came,” she breathed out. “My Petra.”

“D...Dorothea,” gasped Petra, eyes wide. “I…” She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to say! She had dreamt of this almost every night, of how she would spill her feelings over and embrace her like never before, but now that it was actually happening, she couldn’t speak or move! She felt like such a fool!

Gracefully, Dorothea fluttered from the fallen tree to the forest floor. She stepped close to her lover, so that the two of them were face to face. “I’ve been waiting for you, you know!” she giggled. “It’s nice of you to finally show up.”

_Oh, spirits_... Petra felt a lump grow in her throat. “Y...You have been waiting for me? For how long?” she asked.

“Oh, about two weeks. I’ve been singing out to you, you know! Looks like you finally decided to listen and bring yourself down here. I _ did _ tell you I would be waiting for you here all those years ago, didn’t I?” she reminded Petra, winking at her. 

“T...That is…!” Petra suddenly felt absolutely terrible. How foolish she was to brush all those voices off as her imagination! “You have my apologies! I had been thinking that it was nothing but my imagination…”

Dorothea shook her head. “I’m not mad at you. I figured it would take a bit to get you here. Most Beorc aren’t used to having a heron sing to their heart, you know?” she reassured the girl. The heron only smiled as her eyes took the time to look up and down Petra’s body, drinking in just how much the other woman had changed over the last four years. The adoration in her eyes was more than evident, causing Petra to stiffen up and blush. “You’ve gotten so beautiful, Petra! Not that you weren’t before, of course. Are all these necklaces and bracelets from Brigid? I haven’t seen clothing like this in Fódlan.”

“A...Ah, yes. My grandfather had sent me clothing of Brigid to wear,” she replied. The red on her face was growing ever stronger, very conscious of Dorothea’s gaze. “And… you have grown much over the years as well, Dorothea. You are having much beauty… ah… I mean, you are beautiful.” The words that flowed out came from her heart, and she knew that there was little she could do to hold herself back. She had been trying for so, so long, and now the love of her life was right in front of her. “Dorothea… please. I must be knowing. It has been many years, but… are you still feeling the same way about me? Even if you aren’t, I am fine. I am simply happy to be seeing you again—”

Dorothea hushed her lover by placing a finger to her lips. She leaned in close, touching their noses together. “Of course, silly. There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought of you,” she whispered. Her hands grasped at Petra’s, lacing them together and forming a bridge between the two of them. “Every day, I wished I could have been by your side. I always wondered where you were, so I sang out to you, so you would know that I was still thinking of you. Didn’t you feel it?”

Petra breathed in. Of course she did… it all made sense now. Something like that was the true power of the heron tribe, to reach into the hearts of others. Even from so far away, Dorothea was always there, singing to her heart and soothing her. They may have not been with each other for years, but they were always together. “Dorothea…” Petra muttered. She leaned her body forward, her eager lips pressing to Dorothea’s in a gentle, welcoming kiss. Perhaps she couldn’t convey her emotions as easily as a heron could with their song, but Petra knew that this was all she needed to do. Her heart poured out years of love held back as she embraced her lover closer, who just as earnestly kissed her back. Her heart was singing passionately, a ballad of words she couldn’t ever hope to convey through speaking. Luckily, it seemed that Dorothea understood every emotion twirling through the air without needing anything more than a simple, warm kiss. Her hands twisted around Petra’s hips and pulled the princess closer still as their kiss grew less gentle and more passionate. Petra’s back was pushed to the bark of the great tree as her lover threw herself forward, their tongues dancing together in a tango of bliss. Even before they lost each other, they had never kissed each other like this. This was a kiss filled with love, passion, and desperation just to _ feel _ each other after so very long of only having scant communications through whispers on the wind and faint songs of the heart. 

When they were finally forced apart by their need for air, they held each other still, arms around each other’s waists and bodies pressed together. Petra lay her head in the crook of Dorothea’s neck and breathed in her scent, her hair smelling of oak and honey. 

“Dorothea… I must be asking. Where were you?” Petra finally asked, breaking their silence. It was a question that had gripped her what felt like days, binding her to darkened thoughts. She couldn’t wait much longer for an answer.

“Ah, that… Well. In truth, Petra, I didn’t just come here to see you, although I wish that to be the case,” Dorothea confessed.

Petra pulled back from her lover, blinking at her as they looked each other in the eyes. “What are you meaning to say?” she questioned.

Dorothea’s expression grew ever grim. “I was living in Alliance territory, with a bunch of other displaced Laguz. There were all kinds there, some tribes I didn’t even know existed in Fódlan. There were even some other herons there!” she explained, her voice growing a bit more excited as she spoke of the others from her race, though it quickly shifted back into something far more serious. “They told me all about what had happened at Serenes Forest.”

Petra looked puzzled. “You are meaning… the truth behind the massacre? I had seen your message. I had been researching, looking for the truth, but… I could not figure it out,” she admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

“...I can tell you more about that later, but… I actually was sent here by the other Laguz, to give a message to the Empire. Of course, I couldn’t just… waltz right into the base, right? There’s enemy spies hiding there and whatnot. So, I called out to you,” Dorothea explained, looking a bit distressed. “Even though… well, even though the Empire is supposed to be friends of the Laguz now, it’s a bit… well, jarring for me to think of just walking right in.” 

After years of being called a filthy subhuman by corrupt Empire nobles and having rocks thrown at her, Petra couldn’t really blame Dorothea for having misgivings. Even though she herself had begun to feel more comfortable around the reforming Empire, there were still times where Petra felt wary of those she did not know from her numerous experiences with less-than-friendly nobles who had mocked her manners of speech and her foreign heritage. “Do not have worry. I am here for you now, Dorothea. I will walk with you to the Empire, and protect you from any spies,” Petra vowed, a determined look upon her face. “If anyone attempts to harm Dorothea, I, Petra Macneary, will make sure they will be slapped down!”

Dorothea giggled and nuzzled Petra’s nose, a soft blush gracing her features. “My hero,” she teased.

The flustered princess fidgeted slightly at the unexpected affectionate gesture, eyes looking away out of embarrassment. “...I am being serious!” she insisted. “I will be protecting you with all my heart. I will not be allowing people to hurt you.”

“Of course. Thank you, Petra.”

With that, Petra took Dorothea’s hand in hers and tugged her towards the exit of the ruined forest, traversing over burnt roots far too reminiscent of what had happened in Serenes Forest. All the while, Petra refused to let go of her lover’s hand, relishing the slightest bit of contact between them after all of these years. Despite the circumstances, a warm smile was upon her face, melting the rest of her in an embrace of love. How could she possibly feel sad when the love of her life was with her again?

When the two reached the Imperial Army base, Dorothea looked a bit nervous. She stared up at the giant structure, her wings twitching. A few guards gave them odd looks, but Petra reacted by simply holding her lover’s hand tighter and giving them a powerful glare. They knew that the emperor trusted Petra with her life, and thus, they did not bother her beyond that. Petra carefully lead Dorothea into the gates, navigating her through halls decorated with golden symbols of the double headed eagle.

“Lady Edelgard is probably coming up with strategy at this time,” Petra remarked, knowing that Hubert and her liked to spend much of the afternoon planning their actions against the Kingdom and the Church. “I am thinking that it will be okay to interrupt her. What you have to say probably holds much importance.”

“It... does,” Dorothea replied, her voice strangely unsteady. Even though Dorothea was usually so confident, Petra could sense her lover’s uneasiness. She gave the uncertain Laguz’s hand another soft squeeze, a silent but reassuring gesture to remind her of her continued, undying support. “...Sorry. It’s just… never mind. Don’t worry about me! We can talk about it later, okay?” she insisted, though her voice was hardly convincing. Beyond her attempt at a cheery face was something brewing deep beneath the surface, something far darker than she was letting on.

It wasn’t like Dorothea to simply brush something off like that, but Petra had no choice but to accept her wishes for now. She tugged the clearly nervous heron down the hallway, to the door that led to the strategy room. It was here that Edelgard and Hubert were usually situated these days, more often than not. Petra peaked around the corner of the door, finding the emperor and her loyal servant sitting on the opposite sides of a desk with a map of Fódlan placed between them. Several bottles of ink and a few scattered quills decorated their rather crowded space, and the both of them seemed deeply focused. 

Petra cleared her throat. “Ah. I am sorry to be interrupting, Lady Edelgard, Hubert. But I am bringing someone who needs to speak with you,” she spoke up, turning round the corner and standing in the doorway. 

“Oh?” Edelgard looked rather interested. “That’s fine. Hubert and I were just finishing up our meeting.”

Hubert looked a bit irritated at the intrusion of their meeting, but had to relent to his emperor’s wishes. “Hopefully someone who won’t waste our Majesty’s time.”

“It will not be a wasting of your time,” Petra reassured the sinister man. She couldn’t blame him for his comment, for there were plenty of people who came in simply to bother them with schemes that would never work out. She stepped into the room lightly and glanced towards her side, nodding for Dorothea to come join her within.

Dorothea was hesitant, but joined her lover’s side with an uncertain step forward. As soon as she entered the tactics room, her eyes locked onto Edelgard’s form like a timid deer having spotted a hunter pointing an arrow at its head. Her whole body was stiff, including her pearly white wings, folded firmly behind her. She opened her mouth to speak, but she did not say anything. She simply stared at the emperor, her skin looking as though it was turning far too pale, not dissimilar to the color of her wings. Dorothea looked incredibly vulnerable, a far cry from the woman who had proudly told Petra that she had broken the arms of men who had tried to steal her away. Even though Edelgard was the emperor, this was incredibly unlike the normally confident and cheery heron. 

“Dorothea Arnault,” Edelgard spoke first. She recognized the woman immediately, from both the opera house and Petra’s rambles. “You’ve come back.”

“...That is… yes,” Dorothea answered, her voice shaky and her eyes never leaving Edelgard once. Petra watched as the girl’s wings twitched nervously. “I’m… flattered that you remember me, your Majesty. Or even know who I am…”

“Of course. You were the star of the Mittlefrank Opera Company for quite a few years. Plus…” Edelgard’s vision tore itself away from Dorothea, settling instead upon Petra. “Petra’s told me a lot about you.”

Petra flustered and looked at her shoes. She hoped that was all right with Dorothea, given how the heron was practically staring at Edelgard like she was intending to see through her eyes and straight into her soul. Could it be that Dorothea was upset by the presence of a Branded? Petra knew that Laguz were capable of sensing those of Branded heritage and often thought ill of them, but Petra didn’t peg Dorothea for the type to be so upset over someone’s species. It appeared that Hubert was very aware of how the Laguz was staring at his liege, for he scooted his chair an inch closer towards Edelgard. There was hardly any way to tell what Edelgard’s ever present servant was thinking, but Petra couldn’t imagine it was anything good. 

“...Yes, well. I wish I were here with better news…” Dorothea faltered for a moment, just for a moment looking as though she perplexed. Petra knew the look on her face far too well: it was the look she often had upon her own face when she forgot a word in Fódlan language, or when she didn’t know how to translate her thoughts to words her conversational partner would understand. “Well… for the last four years, I’ve been with a tribe of refugee Laguz living in Alliance territory. Every so often, we’d have a member of our tribe vanish without a trace, but we thought perhaps it was possible that they had decided to leave Fódlan altogether, on their own. A-Anyway, the last few weeks, the disappearances have gotten far more numerous. We had a few bird tribe Laguz scout out Kingdom territory, and… well, long story short, we think that some soldiers in the Kingdom have been taking them.’

Edelgard raised one of her eyebrows, intrigued. “Do you have any idea what their motives might be?” she asked. 

“I thought you’d already know,” Dorothea replied, surprised. “They’re conducting some sort of… experiment. On someone, or something. But we have no idea who. But... the experiment requires the hearts of Laguz.” As she spoke, it seemed as though Dorothea was beginning to fidget more and more. Her feet were shifting around, her fingers couldn’t decide whether or not they wanted to fidget with her hair, her wings were fluttering nervously, but her eyes were still locked upon Edelgard as if it were impossible for her to break her gaze away. “They’ve been focusing mainly on members of the dragon tribe, but… they haven’t been picky, recently.”

It was rare to see the emperor lose her composure, but Edelgard nearly jumped out of her seat. “Have you seen their faces at all?” she demanded frantically. “The soldiers. Do you know what they look like?”

Dorothea took a large step back, sweat rolling down her forehead. “They’re dressed in mostly black, with weird masks… well, I haven’t personally seen them, but that’s what I’ve heard...” she clarified, sounding thoroughly spooked by the emperor in front of her. Petra’s hand darted out towards Dorothea’s and took her palm in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She gently traced her thumb on the back of the heron’s hand, hoping to calm her with her presence. Dorothea took in a deep breath and relaxed ever so slightly, but still looked on edge. “We really don’t have any more information than that, but I was asked to come here to, well. Request help.”

Edelgard looked as though she was about to break her composure completely, the solid mask cracking and crumbling right in front of two rather perturbed young women. In order to control herself, the woman forced herself to take a deep breath. It would be most unbecoming of her to lose her cool. “...When I decided to declare war, I did so for the sake of the Laguz who lost their lives in such experiments. That will not change now,” she asserted, forcing her brave face back upon herself. “My determination has not wavered.”

Hubert chuckled a bit to himself. “I suppose our plans have taken a bit of a detour,” he observed, an unsettling grin upon my face. “My my, to think our enemy would show their true face so soon.”

How Petra wished she had any idea what anyone in front of her was talking about. She had far too many questions, and absolutely no one willing to answer them at the moment. Dorothea’s grip turned to iron as she nodded her head firmly. “Thank you, your Majesty,” she forced out. “I-If that’s all, then I’ll be going.” Dorothea then attempted to make a hasty retreat, turning towards the door and yanking Petra with her. Was it just her, or were Dorothea’s hands shaking more than before?

“Hold on,” Edelgard interrupted, forcing the heron to pause in her tracks. “Where do you intend on going? Surely not back to the Alliance.”

“Ah...” Dorothea muttered, unable to come up with an answer.

“Dorothea will be staying with me,” Petra decided, boldly declaring her intentions out loud. She didn’t particularly care if Hubert or Edelgard were to reject the idea. Now that she had found her lover again, she wasn’t about to simply let her go. There were still so many questions that she hadn’t gotten answered! “I will be letting her sleep in my room with me… and I will not be letting any harm befall her here. We are all friends of the Laguz in the Empire. So we will be treating Dorothea with kindness.”

“Petra,” breathed Dorothea, clearly flattered but still unsettled by her surroundings.

“I don’t have any objections,” Edelgard stated firmly. “If that’s what Dorothea wants, she’s fine to stay here. It would be good to have someone like her in the army. I don’t remember well, but… when I got to hear her sing at the Mittlefrank Opera Company, it felt as though her song restored vitality to those who heard it. I’m certain that she’ll be a valuable asset to our army.”

Dorothea was clearly ambivalent about the whole situation, but Petra couldn’t tell what exactly was making her so anxious. She was so eager to leave, it was as though being in Edelgard’s presence was suffocating her. For a moment, Petra’s confidence wavered, and she wondered if Dorothea truly wished to stay by her side. But the calming, ever present melody that sung out between the hearts of the two women kept her worries at bay. “Of course,” Dorothea accepted, forcing a smile upon her face. “I’d love that.”

“Then it is settled. Welcome to the Imperial Army, Dorothea Arnault,” Edelgard declared, her voice booming throughout the room. “We’re happy to have you amongst our ranks.”

Dorothea thanked the emperor with a quick bow, but it was becoming ever more clear that she wanted nothing more than to leave that very instant. Petra thanked Edelgard for her and pulled the Laguz woman away from the room and nimbly down the halls, leading her towards her room. She hadn’t even thought about the implications of declaring that the two would live together until that very moment, when her cheeks suddenly burnt a fiery crimson and her heart skipped a few beats. She mumbled to herself about what a _ fool _ she was in the language of Brigid. Did Dorothea even want to be rooming together so suddenly? She hadn’t even considered that!

Upon approaching her room, Petra swiftly unlocked the door and gestured for the still fidgety heron to come inside. 

At first, Dorothea looked apprehensive about the contents of Petra’s room, before her face relaxed. It was mostly decorated in successful hunts, with tanned hides lying about and a few antlers here and there that she used to hang things from the wall, such as the various necklaces she had been sent from Brigid. Various tools of her trade were pinned over her bed, such as her trusty bow and a couple of intricate hunting daggers from Brigid. “So, this is where you live. It’s just like I imagined,” Dorothea teased, despite her still wavering heart rate. “I had been worried that you kept it a mess, but I see you’re rather tidy.”

“Do you think me the type to be a mess?” Petra questioned, tilting her head with a perplexed expression upon her face. “I am always making sure everything is organized. I do not want to be losing my things!”

“I was just teasing you, Petra,” Dorothea comforted her, a genuine smile lighting upon her face. “It’s very comfortable. I like it.”

Petra visibly relaxed, though she still could not shake the embarrassment at inviting her lover to come _ live _ with her. They had just reunited, and she was starting to already sound like she was asking Dorothea to wed! Though, come to think of it, she _ had _ already enthusiastically stated that she wished for them to move to Brigid together… oh spirits, she certainly said some strange things when her heart was racing! “I am hoping I was not overstepping my boundaries by inviting you to live here, Dorothea. I was thinking… you wished to be away from that room.”

“No, you weren’t. I’d love to live here with you,” assured Dorothea. “I’ve already told you that you’re the love of my life. Would you ever doubt that?”

What a tease her lover could be! Petra’s fidgeted more so than ever, a blushing mess that couldn’t even look Dorothea in the eye. “...You…! You really are meaning such a thing?” Petra stammered. 

Once again, the heron could only giggle at her Beorc lover. “You’re such a silly woman, Petra. I don’t think there’s much you can do at this point to drag me away from you!” she laughed. “You’re the one that’s stuck with me now.”

Oh, how Dorothea kept finding new ways to make Petra fall in love with her all over again. Her eyes glimmered with soft love for her beautiful heron. She settled herself upon her bed, having to sit to prevent herself from stumbling over with how fast her heart was racing. It was getting rather late, anyway, and she would soon have to go to bed. Which presented a new, unique problem.

“—Ah!” Petra gasped out as realization washed over her like the roaring tides of Brigid summers. “I am just now realizing that there is only one bed…!”

“And..?” Dorothea asked, as though it wasn’t even an issue. “There’s plenty of room for the both of us to snuggle.”

Petra’s legs swung back and forth off of her bedside, barely able to look at her lover in the eye. She had cuddled with Dorothea plenty of times before, and sometimes had even fallen asleep cuddled in her arms, so why did this feel so different? Perhaps the environment made it feel like they were something of a married couple. “I am also realizing… that I do not possess clothing for you to wear to sleep. It is impossible for you to be wearing my night clothing… there is no room for your wings!”

“Don’t you worry about that. I’m sure we’ll find a way to fix that issue soon. Besides, this dress is plenty comfortable.” Dorothea looked down at her crimson red dress, which hung from her curves immodestly. It was absolutely gorgeous on her, sure, but Petra wondered how she was even going to obtain clothing that had proper room for Dorothea’s large wings. “I don’t mind wearing it to sleep. I’ve done it before!”

“If you are insisting…” Petra stood up from the bed and wandered over towards her dresser, pulling it open absentmindedly and picking out some loose attire for her to wear. One of her hands reached behind her hair and pulled her hair free from its ponytail. She would have to undo all the braids individually later. Though the hairstyles of Brigid were complicated and difficult to do each day, Petra felt far more comfortable in them than simply having her hair loose. Without thinking, she began to tug her clothing off, rolling her top over her head—

“ —Do you intend on giving me a show, Petra? My my, so soon,” came Dorothea’s singsong voice, clearly intent on teasing her lover and turning her into a blushing mess. “Or perhaps you just forgot I was in the room.”

Petra froze. Her top was already halfway off of her body. “...I...I was forgetting! Please, look away for now…” she insisted.

Dorothea did so, and Petra changed into a loose fitting shirt and pants. She pulled herself into her bed, her hands nimbly working to undo the various braids in her hair. Dorothea took the opportunity to slide next to her lover, who curiously watched. “Your hair must be difficult to do everyday,” she remarked. “But it’s very cute. You should show me how to mine like yours someday.”

“Dorothea with a hairstyle of Brigid… I am thinking that would be cute,” Petra agreed wholeheartedly. 

Once her hair was fully free of its constraints and hanging loosely down her shoulders, Petra scooted towards the side of the bed and pushed her back towards the wall to give her heron lover plenty of room to make herself comfortable. Dorothea quickly settled in next to her, nuzzling her nose into the crook of her beloved's neck and feeling the rhythm of her heart. Her hands hugged Petra to her body closely, wrapping a wing over the Brigid princess just as a blanket. On almost all sides, Petra was being warmed by her lover. Her heartbeat was rapid with nervousness at such close contact, but at the same time, she was feeling at ease. After so many years of longing, here they were… together.

“I love you,” Petra whispered. “I am just wanting to tell you that again.”

“Oh, I love you too, Petra. My sweet Petra,” murmured Dorothea in her lovers ear. 

As the two of them held each other, Petra suddenly felt as though the two of them were simply avoiding the topic at hand. She had still yet to ask her about what had happened in the tactics room, or what her sudden anxiety was brought on by. Petra’s fingers gently caressed Dorothea’s cheek, sensing that the heron was now calm. It was odd, how Dorothea was staring daggers at Edelgard as though she was something uncomfortably _ wrong. _ A lump formed in her throat as she debated how to ask the question, how to break the harmonic bliss that was encapsulating the two of them. But Petra just wouldn’t feel right if she let it simmer.

“Dorothea. I am wanting to ask you something,” Petra spoke up. 

Dorothea knew from her serious tone immediately that she was hoping to discuss their earlier confrontation with Edelgard. “...Right, right. Go ahead,” she replied, dreading the question.

“When you were in the tactics room, you kept staring at Edelgard and getting nervous. I am wondering… why? I have heard that Laguz do not feel well about Branded, and I am wondering if you knew that Edelgard was a Branded.”

Dorothea was quiet for a few seconds as she composed her reply. “What did she tell you? Edelgard. You clearly already knew she was Branded, so she had to have talked to you about it.”

“Just that she is a Branded. She had mentioned experiments and wanting to have vengeance for the Laguz and siblings that were killed because of the Brand. She even showed me the Brand. On her left hand,” Petra recalled. 

Dorothea let out a small sigh. “That’s just it, Petra. It’s not as though I don’t like the Branded. It’s just, ah…” She tensed against her lover, prompting Petra to soothe her by rubbing her bare upper back. “There’s something… different about Edelgard. She told you about the experiments, but not what they were.”

Something different? Petra blinked at her lover. 

“She’s not just any Branded, Petra. She has two Brands,” Dorothea elaborated. “One she was born with, and one that was given to her through experimentation.”

Now that Petra thought of it, Edelgard hadn’t shown what was beneath her other glove. “Having two Brands? Is such a thing possible?” Petra questioned. But if Dorothea said so, it had to be true.

“...The other appeared by infusing her with the hearts of many, many Laguz. Not just any Laguz, either…” Dorothea breathed in. “The herons. She’s been given the lives of all of the herons. She’s the reason why the Serenes Forest Massacre happened.”

Petra felt her heart stop and her body grow rigid and cold, even with her lover’s warm embrace. “Wh...what? Then… when the spirits spoke to me…” The truth behind Serenes Forest… was this what they meant?

“That wasn't the spirits, Petra, that was _me, _calling out to you," Dorothea revealed. "It’s hard for me to look at Edelgard, because when I see her… I can sense them. My entire tribe, condensed into a single Brand. I can feel them screaming out to me in agony. I can hear their dreadful songs. It’s not her fault, not at all. She didn’t want the massacre. But I…” Dorothea could barely continue, her whole body was quivering with anxiety.

“Shh… that is enough,” Petra whispered into her lover’s ear. Her fingers stroked at Dorothea's cheek reassuringly. “You do not have to say anything more. I am knowing how hard it is for you. Their song must be painful, but… you are still having my song. So listen…”

Petra pulled Dorothea close to her body, adjusting her and allowed her to rest her head upon her chest. She allowed Dorothea to shut her eyes and listen to the beautiful melody, to ancient words she could not understand and yet still knew the meaning to. They spoke of love, of passion, of their desire for one another. How they had helped one another, how they felt oh so lost but now they had each other, and no matter the distance, that would never change, not even in the four years that the two of them had been apart. They both indulged themselves in their lyrics, allowing it to calm them and engulf them in a sea of warmth and bliss. Within minutes, Dorothea was fast asleep.

On the other hand, Petra stared at the wall as her fingers danced absentmindedly down Dorothea’s back. Two Brands? The Serenes Forest Massacre was done to experiment on Edelgard? That was surely what the emperor had meant when she talked about the countless lives that had been sacrificed to her. Suddenly, her creed and determination made far more sense than before, as though a cloud of hazy fog had cleared in Petra’s mind. Knowing this certainly changed things, but she would not allow it to dampen her view of Edelgard. Clearly, her emperor had not wanted so many lives destroyed for her, and was openly trying to change the world to make sure a massacre like that never happened again. In fact, thinking about it only made her wish to fight for Edelgard more. For justice for all that had happened to Dorothea, and the rest of the Laguz.

With that thought, she fell into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU if you read this far. i love this ship so passionately. 
> 
> if you read this i would really, really, really love if you left a kudo and especially a comment because it honestly means so much to me and keeps me moving forward. i just like to know that people out there are enjoying all the effort im putting into this because whew, i was not expecting this fanfic to be so long when i came up with the idea for it. maybe i should have stretched this out into a full multichapter giant, but what can you do now?


	3. Crimson Rose: Final Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit this took a long time to write i hope you can see why
> 
> probably should have split this up into more chapters but i didnt want to make y'all wait longer than you already did oh well
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: This chapter has some fight scenes in it, but i want to elaborate i didn't put too much time into them because they are NOT the focus of this story. this story is about petrathea lesbians, not murdering the pope. that's just... a sideplot. try to ignore how shoddily they've been written. i might go back and update them later.

**Part Two: Crimson Rose**

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Garland Moon**

“Good morning.”

A faint whisper in Petra’s ear was what woke her up. Her eyes slowly peered open and immediately met the emerald gaze of her lover, her face mere centimeters away from her own. A soft, silky hand brushed Petra’s cheek as gentle as a faint breeze upon the summer air. Petra was usually woken by the cries of the birds that liked to dwell outside her window, but this was far more pleasant. One of her arms lay lazily draped over Petra’s back, pulling her into her warmth. Smiling radiantly at the beautiful heron, Petra giggled slightly. “Good morning,” she greeted, touching her nose to her lover’s. Though the two of them had spent much time together prior to being separated, this experience was brand new to them. Petra could definitely get used to this feeling. “Were you sleeping well?” she inquired.

“Of course. Nothing but sweet dreams, all thanks to you, of course,” praised Dorothea, fingers dancing over Petra’s back. “But even the most wonderful of dreams isn’t nearly as wonderful as being awake with you.”

How cheesy, but it was enough to make Petra fluster. “I am in agreement. Even though I was sleeping, I was longing for you,” she confessed, slightly embarrassed. After years of being separated, it was hard for Petra to contain her passion for her lover. “I am wishing to spend time with you now that we are both awake, however…” As much as she’d love to laze around in bed with Dorothea all day, surely Edelgard and the rest of the Imperial Army had different ideas. Every morning, the group would gather in the tactics room for a briefing and a strategy meeting, and today was sure to be the same. “...We must be going to the tactics room to meet with the others. I am thinking that everyone will want to meet you.”

True enough. Dorothea sighed as she pried herself from Petra’s body, sitting herself up and stretching her wings out. Her wingspan was truly impressive, Petra thought to herself. The heron removed herself from bed and rolled her head upon her shoulders with a satisfying crack. “I suppose everyone will be wondering about us, won’t they?” she speculated. “You told Edie about us. What about the others?”

Edie? What an odd nickname, Petra thought. “No. I have not been telling anyone. I was not certain if you would be liking that.” Even though she knew that her fellow soldiers were fine with the Laguz, she wasn’t certain what they’d think of Beorc and Laguz relationships, not to mention she wasn’t even sure if Dorothea was okay with Petra just going around blabbering about their relationship to everyone. Petra stood from her bed as well, stretching her legs out as she did so.

“Oh, I’m all well and good with it, trust me,” Dorothea replied with a wink. “I’d climb to the highest treetops and sing the song of our love our for all the world to hear. I’d tell every citizen of Fódlan that I’m in love with Petra Macneary!” she gushed, her fingers intertwining with each other as she held her hands against her heart. 

All Petra could do was smile, daydreaming about a time in the future where they could do just that, but in Brigid. Even though Brigid was far more tolerant of the Laguz than Fódlan, she would still have to slowly introduce her people to the idea of her marrying a Laguz. But when the day came where the two of them were happily together, they could wander around all of Brigid without a care in the world, showing their love off to everyone. Such a thought warmed her heart… but ah, had she just thought of marriage? Flustered, the woman looked down at her feet. She was thinking much too far ahead! Sure, they were desperately in love with each other, but neither of them had said anything about marriage…!

“Something on your mind, Petra?” Dorothea had to ask, as the girl had yet to reply to her daydreams.

“Ah—! It is nothing. I am thinking about how wonderful that sounds… and about how we should be going soon. Hubert would not be forgiving me easily if we showed up late.”

“Right, right! I’ll turn around so you can get dressed and ready.”

Petra didn’t waste anymore time. She freed herself from her night clothes and started to dress back up in her traditional Brigid attire. She hung her various necklaces from her, allowing the white feather Dorothea had once left behind to settle upon her chest. After slipping on her bracelets and her stocking, Petra sat upon her bed and began to work her agile hands through her hair, decorating it in a large ponytail tied back by various smaller braids. It was a lengthy process, one which Dorothea watched with intrigue. The heron sat next to her and inspected her hair closely all the while, whispering to herself about how adorable Petra looked. The whole time, Petra felt her fingers grow unsteady, suddenly nervous and uncertain of a process she had repeated every day for years now, just as well as something like eating breakfast. In the end, she wasn’t certain about how well she did her hair, but it would have to do. It was nearing time for the tactics meeting.

“Very well. I have readiness. Shall we be going?” Petra asked.

“Let’s,” agreed Dorothea.

* * *

When the two of them entered the tactics room, the ongoing conversation between members of the Imperial Army immediately dissipated into nothingness. Curious eyes peered behind Petra’s back and to the heron behind her, who cautiously observed all of her new allies. Petra had to wonder if her lover recognized the various nobility, who she had heard often visited the Mittelfrank Opera Company to entertain themselves when they had far too much money and no way to spend it. Most certainly, the others had heard of her. It seemed the stories of a mythical heron who’s songs could reach the hearts of her audience were far and wide amongst the citizens of the Adrestian Empire.

Dorothea was the one who decided to cut through the silence. “Hello! I’m Dorothea Arnault. I’ll be joining you all from now on, all right?” she introduced with a wink. All eyes were upon her in that moment, none able to tear away from a sight as mysterious as a heron showing up out of seemingly nowhere. 

“Whoa! A heron!?” Caspar was the first to speak up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real one before!”

“Nonsense, Caspar! You mean to tell me you never went to the Mittelfrank Opera Company?” Ferdinand scolded him. “Dorothea was the star for quite some time! Anyway, I am Ferdinand von Aegir, son of the former Prime Minister. A pleasure!”

“Linhardt. I’m very interested to see a heron here. I’ll have to ask you a few questions for my research later,” introduced Linhardt. 

One by one, the other members of the Imperial Army introduced themselves to Dorothea, who happily greeted each one of them. The group chatted for a few minutes, but they didn’t have time to spill out all their life details to the heron, for Hubert and Edelgard soon joined them in the tactics room and broke apart the conversation. Edelgard took her usual place behind the desk, unfurling the map that they used for such meetings. Dorothea had suffled herself towards the back of the room and away from Edelgard, her wary eyes ever watching the emperor. Sensing her lover’s tension, Petra grasped Dorothea’s hand and held it tightly, a simple reminder that she was beside her and willing to help her at any time.

Petra thought back to what Dorothea had told her the previous night. Within Edelgard’s body was the blood and magic of the heron tribe, reduced to a simple Brand that lay on hand opposite her other. Herons were always sensitive creatures, and to think that Dorothea could feel her deceased tribe within Edelgard, surely she must be in quite the turmoil. Her thumb rolled around and rubbed the back of Dorothea’s hand, a simple affectionate gesture to keep her heart at bay. It seemed well enough, because Dorothea didn’t fidget nearly as much as she did the day before.

“I see you’ve all been introduced to Dorothea,” Edelgard began. “Dorothea was a former member of the Adrestian Empire and the Mittelfrank Opera Company before the war began. Since then, she’s been living in a small tribe of refugee Laguz in Alliance Territory. She came here to deliver a message to me. It is believed that mysterious soldiers from the Kingdom are attempting to capture members of the tribe for use in their own experiments. For that reason, I’ve decided to help her and the rest of the Alliance Laguz fend off these intruders.” Edelgard pointed a quill towards the spot on the map where the Laguz were currently settling. “In order to do that, I intend to carry out a mission next month. We will be marching through Alliance territory, starting by passing through the Great Bridge of Myrddin. From there, I will request a meeting with Claude. Though he has feigned neutrality the past couple of years, it will soon become impossible for him to stay out of conflict for much longer. It’s for that reason that I will be asking for his aid.”

There was some uncertain mumbling throughout the room, but Hubert quickly hushed all forms of conversation with a swift glare so that Edelgard may continue speaking. “I have reason to believe that Claude’s ideals don’t far too fall from our own. If the Empire and Alliance can come together, I have no doubt that we will be able to chase off the Church of Seiros and the Kingdom. For the next few moons, I ask that you prepare yourselves for the expedition. It is possible that we may end up having to fight the Alliance, should we be unable to receive Claude’s cooperation.”

An expedition to the Alliance… Petra leaned back in her chair and scratched her chin. She hadn’t been allowed outside of the Adrestian Empire much before, and she never really got to know what sort of a person the leader of the Alliance was. However, he was kind enough to allow refugee Laguz to form a tribe upon his land, so that was enough to put Petra at ease. And if it meant bringing a stop to this horrid war and opening up new ties to prevent any more worthless deaths, then so be it.

“Are there any questions?” Edelgard asked the room.

Silence fell. No one said a word.

“Good. Then prepare yourselves. We leave at the end of next moon.”

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Blue Sea Moon**

The moon following Edelgard’s announcement on the Imperial Army’s next mission was full of nothing but hustle and training. Petra had been instructed to hone her skills upon a wyvern and practice swinging around a giant axe from atop the great beast, as traveling by air was far preferably than by foot, and Petra hadn’t quite grasped the basics of how to ride upon a horse. Dorothea, meanwhile, had begun to show a few skills that she had picked up over the years. Though it was considered a disgrace for Laguz to fight outside of their beast forms, Dorothea had thrown away her pride and learned how to utilize a sword for her protection, and had a surprising affinity for magic. She had never spent most of her life with her tribe anyway, so the unspoken laws governing the Laguz never meant much to her. Of course, she was still more than happy to transform when it was needed. She would slash target dummies with her talons and create magical gales from her strong wings, moving through the sky with dexterity. Petra would soar alongside her upon the back of her wyvern, but she couldn’t help but feel the experience paled in comparison to Dorothea’s ability to actually fly. Still, enjoying the summer breeze upon the air with her lover at her side was joyous for the both of them. If only it was just for recreational purposes.

Dorothea seemed to get along with the other Imperial youth, for the most part. Though she would still avoid Edelgard like a deer fleeing from a hunter’s arrow, she made fast friends with the likes of Bernadetta and Linhardt. She enjoyed messing with Caspar and even Hubert upon occasion. Aside from Edelgard, Ferdinand seemed to be the person who gave her the most unease, as she often attempted to avoid any sort of conversation with him. When Petra had asked, Dorothea had expressed that she was simply annoyed by his noble pursuits, though Petra couldn’t help but feel there was another hidden layer to it all. Of course, Dorothea had been thrilled to reunite with Manuela, the woman who had inspired her and given her a new life. 

“My my, you have become such a beautiful woman!” Manuela had gushed, her arms holding her student tight in a hug. “You’ve come a long way from that back alley heron with a broken wing. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yes. Thank you, Manuela!” Dorothea had replied through her tears, squeezing the other woman tight. “Thank you… for everything!”

Of course, Manuela, being Manuela, had to make a snide remark about how Dorothea must be able to get any man she wanted with her looks. She had simply laughed and pulled Petra in by the waist to her side, ruffling her hair lovingly and insisting that she had already found the one for her. Petra had been wholly embarrassed by the wave of questions that followed after, with Manuela wishing to know absolutely everything about their relationship. Dorothea had gladly answered everything she could with a puffed out chest filled with pride while Petra had been nothing more than a mess of tinted red cheeks. In the end, however, Manuela was just glad her star student and friend was safe after her mysterious disappearance.

Watching everyone interact with Dorothea made Petra’s heart feel full. It felt like trading days in Brigid, where the Laguz tribes would bring their rare hides and meat to the citizens and exchange them for good outside of the reach of Laguz territory. It was always full of casual chatter, and neither Beorc nor Laguz had ever spoken or thought twice of their species. Dorothea, despite being a heron, was treated just as any other member of the army. It was like a glimpse into a better future, a shimmering world that awaited them as soon as the war came to a close.

As Imperial Army gathered outside the base and loaded horse drawn wagons with supplies, Petra wondered if the end was getting closer. She leaned against her wyvern, saddled and tacked up for the journey. She absentmindedly ran her hands down the beast’s nose, the creature nuzzling into the palm of her hand. It was almost time for them to depart.

“You will be alright with flying? Do you have certainty?” Petra asked her lover.

“Well, it’s not like we won’t have breaks. I’ve flown from the Alliance before, remember?” Dorothea reassured her, stretching her wings out casually. “You don’t have to worry about me, my love.”

Petra was certain she would never get used to all the affectionate nicknames Dorothea had come up with for her, as she was already turning a pale pink. “I cannot help but be worrying about you. It is only natural.”

“If I get tired, I’ll just rest on your wyvern with you, okay?” assured the former opera singer. “But I won’t be. My wings have gotten quite strong!”

Even though she had her doubts, Petra didn’t push the subject any further. It soon came time for them to leave, and Petra leapt upon her wyvern and grasped the reins tightly. She took to the air alongside her lover, who had transformed into a gorgeous white heron. The two traversed through the sky while keeping a firm eye on the army ahead of them, leading them on the journey towards the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Every so often, Petra would glance from the path ahead to the heron at her side and engage in casual chatter. It was truly the only entertainment they had on the journey, but luckily, it took them no longer than three days to reach the bridge’s entrance.

As expected, the Adrestian Army was met by a horde of Alliance Generals who immediately picked up their arms and prepared for war. Edelgard, however, ordered the Imperial Army to drop their weapons.

“We are not here to seek battle. We are here to speak with the leader of the Alliance, Claude von Riegan,” Edelgard declared for the entire Alliance Army to hear.

Of course, her claims were met with skepticism. In order to convince the Leicester Alliance Generals, the emperor ordered for a portion of her army to surrender their weapons and remain at the bridge as temporary hostages as insurance, telling them that they may turn their weapons against them if she should prove to be lying and seek the life of Claude. Among those ordered to stay behind were Ferdinand and Bernadetta, but not Petra or Dorothea. Petra speculated that Edelgard required the two of them to be there when discussing strategy. Dorothea was obviously a clear connection between the goals of the Alliance and the Empire, while Petra had witnessed firsthand the hatred of Laguz and suffered at the hands of those who despised foreigners.

And so, the march through Alliance territory continued with a good portion of their army now left behind, but the threat of battle at the minimum. A part of Petra wondered if Claude’s scheming nature would spark the idea of a surprise attack, but such would be a low blow, even for him. Along the way, they were met by the gazes of terrified civilians who were half expecting to be murdered where they stood, but the Empire spared them not even a second glance. They were hardly here to involve civilians in such matters.

It took them a week to reach the Alliance base, situated south of Derdriu. It seemed as though they had been expecting the arrival of the Empire army, for they immediately greeted the oncoming soldiers and offered them locations to park their carriages and steeds. Petra hopped from her wyvern and stroked his head, offering him praise for a job well done and by far the farthest journey they had taken together. Dorothea, meanwhile, shifted back from beast to her more Beorc form. The ocean breeze swept in from the north, providing Petra with the taste of salt upon her tongue. It reminded her of her home back in Brigid, in a sense, but without the overwhelming summer humidity that usually encompassed the entire country during the Blue Sea Moon. Despite the nervousness of meeting the leader of another army, one that had been considered an enemy, Petra felt refreshed and calm. 

“Feel that sea breeze,” sighed Dorothea, closing her eyes and allowing the wind to sweep her brown locks into the air. She ruffled her feathers so that they too could feel the salty chill. “How lovely!”

Petra giggled at the joy of her lover. “I am also feeling quite relieved! The ocean breeze is reminding me much of Brigid. I have not been able to go to the beach since arriving in Fódlan.” It was a shame they were still a ways from the sea, and it wasn’t as though they were here for vacation. “It is unfortunate that I cannot be taking you to the beach now. I am thinking that I need a good swim.”

“Maybe when this is all over, Edie might let us relax a bit?” Dorothea suggested with a wry smile. “I mean, we _ did _ come all the way here for this political talk. It would be nice to soak for a bit.”

“That is sounding nice…” Petra trailed off, mind filled with thoughts of her homeland.

Unfortunately, she did not have time to think much on it. They were soon rounded up and escorted by heavily armored guards into the interior of the Alliance Base. The entrance led to a very well decorated and _ long _ hallway, painted in shimmering tones of yellow and gold. The sacred animal of the Leicester Alliance was the deer, and it certainly was no secret judging by the amount of deer decor that encompassed the walls. Still, it felt far more casual than all the antique and enormous statues that were scattered about the Imperial Base as if the Adrestian nobles had something to prove about how wealthy they were. There were plenty of rooms here and there, but the guards did not stop until they reached the very end, leading a grand door made of rare wood and engraved with the symbol of the deer. 

Edelgard was the first one to step in. This was the room the members of each Alliance house would utilize to meet and discuss their politics, but it was completely empty save for one man sitting at the end of the long oak table with his legs kicked up and shoes resting upon the placemat underneath. Claude shot them a friendly grin and a casual wave, as if he weren’t the esteemed head of the Alliance and was just greeting a friend who decided to come over for dinner. Two guards took their position at either sides of the door, lances clutched in hand and eyes firmly upon the emperor. 

“Hey-a, Edelgard. You’re looking good,” Claude greeted. 

The emperor seemed slightly taken aback by how _ casual _ her enemy was being and hesitated. Petra wondered if this was some sort of tactic her was using on purpose in order to unnerve her. “...Good to see you, Claude.” Her head whipped backwards at the Imperial Army behind her. “Hubert, Petra, Dorothea. With me. The rest of you, wait outside,” she instructed.

Petra pointed at herself as if to confirm whether or not the emperor _ really _ wanted her presence, but it seemed to be so. She took a shaky step into the room, followed by Dorothea, and observed her surroundings. The whole place smelt like pine and maple, certainly not like how she expected a grand tactics room to smell. Hubert closed the door behind the four of them and silently took his place directly beside Edelgard, merely standing there and allowing his intimidating presence to fill the room.

“We’re here to offer a treaty of peace,” Edelgard began immediately, cutting no corners.

“Whoa, hold on there,” Claude interrupted, holding his hand flat in the air. He slid his legs off of the table and sat straight up and proper. “You haven’t even introduced me to these two ladies.” He glanced over Edelgard’s shoulder and at Petra and Dorothea, giving them a warm smile. 

Petra wasn’t sure if that was her cue to speak, but she did regardless. “I am Petra Macneary, princess of Brigid,” she greeted, bowing her head in greeting. “I have been a member of the Imperial army for many years now. I am pleased to be meeting you.”

“And I’m Dorothea Arnault, a former songstress from the Empire! Up until a few months ago, I was living in Alliance territory with the refugee tribe… but I was sent back to deliver a message from them,” Dorothea introduced. 

“Good. A pleasure to meet you both! Now…” Claude turned his attention back towards Edelgard. “A treaty of peace? Where’s all this coming from? Have you had a sudden change of heart?”

Edelgard merely shook her head. “It has come to my attention that our ideals are not dissimilar, and that it’s more than possible for us to work together. The Empire wishes to put a stop to the corruption of the Church of Seiros, who have recently been spotted kidnapping Laguz from _ your _ territory for use in their... experiments.” Edelgard seemed to fidget a bit at the thought, but perhaps it was Petra’s imagination. The woman was always so good at putting on a calm, stone cold facade. “For years now, there’s been a secret organization against the church, slithering in the dark, using the hearts and blood of Laguz to implant Brands into the bodies of Beorc and Branded alike. The Church has been utilizing the very same technology in order to further their agenda. I believe that they have taken one of my own, Byleth Eisner, and are currently holding her captive in the Kingdom in order to utilize her for experiments. As you may know, prior to my declaration of war, they scorched a forest in Empire territory in order to kill Laguz that were living there, but I suspect that was not their true intention. They wished to take Byleth and use the lives of the Laguz lost in order to awaken some sort of hidden power within her, just as those who slither in the dark utilized the death of the King to kill the Laguz of Duscur and Serenes Forest for their blood transfusion experiments.” Edelgard wasted no time in sliding her white gloves off of her hands, holding the backs of them up for Claude to see the twin Brands scorched into her skin. “I too was a victim of these experiments. While I already possessed the Brand of the Eagle, the Brand of the Heron was forcibly implanted into me with the blood and lives lost at Serenes Forest. It is because of _ me _ that herons like Dorothea lost their home, and I wish to prevent any further tragedy from happening. But it’s about to happen again, right before your very eyes.”

Edelgard took a deep breath before continuing. “Byleth was… a mercenary traveling with her father that proved capable by defending me, so I hired her as an instructor for the Adrestian Empire. What I _ didn’t _ know was that she, too, was Branded, but not with a Brand I had ever seen before. After consulting with the Crest scholars over numerous years, I fully believe the Brand she possess to be the very same blood of the Goddess herself. Lady Rhea is likely trying to awaken that blood within her. But in order to do that, more sacrifices must be made. The kidnappings on your territory are only the beginning of further blood experiments. If they need more power, they will gladly burn your land to the ground and decimate all the Laguz within. While I don’t know your stance on Beorc-Laguz relations, you _ have _ allowed them to live on your land for this long. And… well…” Edelgard’s gaze flickered over her shoulder, towards Dorothea. “Can you sense it?”

Petra was confused, but Dorothea immediately nodded. “You’re Branded too,” she stated. It wasn’t a question, it was an absolute fact. 

“Just as I suspected,” Edelgard spoke, turning back towards Claude. “Claude. I know that you too seek peace between the Laguz and the Beroc, but we will not have peace until we can rescue Byleth and stop the Church of Seiros from conducting their experiment. I don’t know what their end goal is, but they _ will _ be coming for the Laguz in this land. That is a fact. You cannot feign neutrality for much longer when your land is soon to be destroyed. The only reason why they haven’t yet is hope that you may cooperate, and I _ know _you’re not the type of person to let thousands of innocent lives perish. I seek to create a future where Fódlan is united in harmony by Beorc, Laguz, and Branded alike. But not just that… I want to be as one with the other nations. Petra was forced to come here as a hostage of the Empire, but I want her to be able to one day return to her homeland as an equal. This world is filled with nothing but hatred, and there sadly is no way to solve it with peace. So please. Fight alongside us.”

For a moment, Claude said nothing, merely grinning. He threw up his hands in the air nonchalantly and shook his head in defeat. “You got me there,” he laughed. “Truth be told, all this stuff’s pretty hard to believe… y’know, the blood experiments and all. But I guess the evidence is all right in front of me, and… I’m no stranger to tales about those who slither in the dark. I just was hoping to do all this a little more peacefully. Guess I can’t just wander up to Lady Rhea and offer her a grand meal in exchange for, you know, dropping all that prejudice and engaging in a grand ball between all of the people of Fódlan. But I gotta know, what are you going to do about Dimitri?”

Dimitri, the king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Petra didn't know much about him, but he was willingly offering shelter to the Church of Seiros and if Edelgard’s words were to be believed, letting them conduct experiments on his land. “I don’t know what Dimitri is playing at. Allowing innocents to die on his land is not like him at all. Perhaps Lady Rhea has told him something to sway his views, but whatever the matter, my goal isn’t to kill him unless it’s necessary. Our target is the Church of Seiros and the beast in charge of it all,” Edelgard continued. “Unfortunately, sacrifices must be made so that we can reach a world where sacrifices are not needed at all. It may seem backwards, but… it’s the truth. So many Laguz lives have already been extinguished by the Church and those who slither for their experiments, and it will only get worse.”

Claude shifted in his seat and sighed. “Guess I’m out of options,” he spoke. “Ah well, the neutrality game was fun to play while it lasted. What can you do?” The Leader of the Alliance shrugged with a small laugh. “I guess I’d have to talk with the others houses in the Alliance, but there’s already a good portion of them that’s offered their aide to you.”

“What about you? Is that a yes?” Edelgard asked, sparks of hope in her voice.

“Well, I can’t really say no, now can I? It’s a good thing we talked about all this first before going at each other’s throats.” Claude winked at Edelgard to ease a bit of the tension in the room. Even in times of war, the man was as easygoing as many had said. “I too was hoping to find a way to unify everyone. I can’t say I really agree with all of your methods, but our end goal is the same. I guess I’ll cooperate.”

Edelgard looked as though she was about to jump up and down in the air and cheer, but she managed to say rooted to the ground. Petra, on the other hand, was quaking with joy. The offer of peace between two of the territories in Fódlan was a clear step towards a brighter future, and paved way for a similar alliance with Brigid. “Thank you for having understanding!” she shouted, unable to contain herself. “I too am wanting a future for Fódlan and Brigid. I am thinking with your help, it is possible." 

Dorothea looked relieved. “I didn’t know about all of that with your instructor, Edie, but it’s become even more important that we fight back. I thank you both for opening your hearts to the Laguz! And while I can’t speak on behalf of everyone, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to know they have a few more allies.”

With the meeting out of the way, Petra and Dorothea were escorted back out of the chambers while Edelgard and Claude discussed the terms of their treaty. Immediately, Dorothea leaned her wings back against one of the yellow painted walls with a sigh of relief, sinking down to the ground in a heap. Her hand was placed above her heart as she closed her eyes, a faint smile upon her face. It was as though a huge weight had simply vanished. Petra swiftly joined her lover’s side, plopping herself on the ground and pressing herself against her shoulder. Petra didn’t particularly care if anyone else was watching them. At the tail end of a long journey, they had made a leap of progress, and now they were both exhausted. Given how very long Edelgard’s meetings could go on for, Petra figured she had time to spare simply relaxing. She buried her nose into the crook of the heron’s neck softly, planting a faint, shy kiss to her smooth skin, eliciting a giggle from the mouth of the former songstress. 

“My my, out in the open?” whispered Dorothea with a scandalous grin. “I had no idea you were so bold, Petra.”

“Ah, it is nothing of the sort!” insisted the flustered Petra. “I was not attempting to act with boldness.”

“Mhm, sure thing, dear,” purred Dorothea, nuzzling her lover’s forehead. “But that was truly adorable! I sometimes can’t get over how precious you are…” Dorothea glanced upwards at the crowd of Imperial soldiers, all locked within conversation with one another. Seeing that the coast was clear, Dorothea lifted Petra’s head and placed a swift kiss upon the princess’s lips, her own curving against Petra’s. It was a quick burst of warmth that vanished as quickly as it had begun, leaving Petra desperate for more. Dorothea was quick to identify the pleading look in her lover's eyes, but she merely shook her head. “Not now, love. That was just a quick sample. Let’s spend time together later tonight when we set up tents, all right?”

Petra pouted. “You are so cruel, Dorothea,” she huffed. 

“But you still love me!” teased Dorothea in a sing-song voice.

* * *

It took about two hours for deliberations to end. When all was said and done, the two leaders exited the conference room and announced their plans. The Alliance was going to lend a few soldiers to the Empire, and the two were to conduct an attack on the Kingdom in the coming moons in hopes of staving off the Church from their research, with the main goal being the recovery of Byleth Eisner. With the sun setting, Claude had agreed to offer rooms and dinner to the Imperial soldiers for the night. Petra, Dorothea and the others were gathered in the Alliance Base’s homey dining hall, the scent of freshly caught meat drifting over the air and overtaking the pine-filled air. The atmosphere felt more like a simple hunters cabin built deep in the woods rather than the extravagance expected of a grand dining room for countless Alliance generals. In an odd way, it felt a lot like Brigid, and it helped keep Petra's anxieties at bay. 

The Empire youth were sat directly opposite Claude’s own personal army, consisting of seven young soldiers that had served him closely for years. Petra had to note that Claude’s army appeared even more diverse than Edelgard’s, with several Laguz walking around as though they were no different from any other, and even citizens from Almyra, a nation bordering the Alliance which was known to have a rocky relationship with Fódlan. Petra was even surprised at how casual the Alliance youth seemed to be, even though they were sitting opposite an army they considered an enemy not hours before. They were all throwing jokes around and sharing stories about the last four years spent training. All of them seemed to be a tight knit group of friends, not dissimilar to Edelgard’s own little group. It was refreshing to see how despite the difference in where they came from, there was still much in common.

“So… which of you guys are gonna be coming back to the empire with us?” Caspar spoke out between bites of grilled meat.

The seven soldiers looked between each other. “Well, all that hasn't _ totally _ been decided yet, but—” started a Beorc with pink hair, who had previously introduced herself as Hilda.

“—I’m going. I already decided,” interrupted a young looking woman with pure white hair and a purple veil. All eyes turned towards her, and Dorothea shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I heard what Lady Edelgard said about those who slither in the dark and the blood experiments. I _ have _ to stop them.”

“Guess Lysithea is already fired up!” observed the Hilda. “Makes it easier for me. I’d rather not make the journey all the way to the Empire, ‘ya know?”

“Definitely,” Linhardt replied, sympathy gleaming in his eyes. “If only I could stay here and nap instead of taking the long journey back.”

“You get it!” gushed the girl. “Anyways, Claude said he wanted at least one other person, soooo… any other volunteers?”

It didn’t take long for another person to speak up. “I’m going as well!” declared an orange haired cat laguz, slamming her fist upon the table and standing tall. “I owe a debt to Jeralt. He saved my tribe a long time ago, and now I gotta rescue his daughter. It’s only fair!”

Jeralt Eisner, the famous father of Byleth Eisner who perished five years prior. He was once known as the Blade Breaker, or so Petra had been told, a mercenary more capable than any other. He had amounted quite the following, it seemed. 

“Lysithea and Leonie, then! Sounds good to me!” Hilda shouted. She clapped her hands together with a grin. 

As the meal continued onward, Petra couldn’t help but notice how Dorothea was giving Lysithea odd looks, not dissimilar to how she would glare at Edelgard from a distance. With how the girl had commented previously on the blood experiments, Petra wondered if she had the same condition as the emperor. As she always did whenever Dorothea was feeling uncertain, Petra brushed her hand against her lovers and danced her fingers across the back of her hand. A soft yet pained smile was all Dorothea gave in response, a silent thanks for Petra’s continued support. Dorothea did not speak much to the others, though she listened intently as Leonie told stories about her tribe and how she had come to be a soldier underneath Claude. Seeing another Laguz integrated so well amongst Beorc was reassuring to Petra that Claude truly meant it when he said he wished for a peaceful world between Beorc and Laguz alike. They had gained valuable allies indeed.

After all was said and done, Petra was escorted into her guest room, away from Dorothea. It was odd being all alone after so many nights spent beside her lover, to the point where the bed felt cold in comparison to the blanket of feathers that usually encased her. Even as midnight fell upon the Alliance, the woman was still wide awake with eyes locked upon the night sky visible through the open window. The faint scent of salt upon the breeze from the north was of great comfort to the Brigid Princess, who still longed for the oceans of her homeland. Though Dorothea provided her with plenty of love and support, the heartache she felt from being parted with the land she hailed from had not faded over time. The memory she once clung to of Brigaeli woods were beginning to fade into nothingness, and she found that she could no longer recall the shape or scent of some of Brigid's most popular greenery she once loved as a child. Anxiety gripped her heart as she pondered what sort of future Brigid would have once the war in Fódlan was over. Long ago, Dorothea had pledged to return to her homeland with Petra, but would she now that she had discovered still living herons? They had yet to discuss their plans. Petra shifted from side to side in her bed, hoping to find one more comfortable than the other, but was unable to drown out the worries that clutched at her still.

It was only the sound of her door creaking open that drew her from her trance. Green eyes peered through the crack in the door, a flash of red silk drawing Petra’s attention.

“Dorothea?” whispered Petra, bewildered by the sudden intrusion. 

Dorothea stepped within, closing the door silently behind her. A sheepish grin was plastered upon her face. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she confessed. “It’s been awhile since I slept by myself, and, well. I missed you.” 

Petra sat up, her sheets cascading off of her. “Dorothea! Are you allowed to be sleeping here with me?” she wondered frantically. They _ had _been placed in separate rooms, after all.

Dorothea shrugged, not ceasing her approach. “Who knows, really? It’s just one night, anyway,” she brushed off. “Besides, I made a promise to you earlier, remember?”

“Ah!” exclaimed Petra, a torrent of red washing over her cheeks. “A promise to be kissing me, yes?”

“I can’t go back on my promise, now can I?” Dorothea continued with a mischievous grin. She descended upon Petra, hands pinning the other woman down by the shoulders as her loose fitting crimson nightgown hung over her. 

Eager lips met eager lips in a dance of longing, gentle at first, but soon the two giving into their love for one another. Petra’s arms found Dorothea’s back as their tongues found one another, reveling in the sweetness of their love. It was a frantic affair as desperation for each other overpowered their other senses, and soon enough, they found themselves in a tight embrace underneath cotton blankets, their eyes gazing into each other with affection as they pulled themselves from the kiss. When Petra was with Dorothea, it was as though all her anxieties melted into nothingness. Yet, she still felt a twinge of worry at the back of her mind. It was hard to banish all the ill thoughts.

“Years ago, I was asking for you to be coming to my homeland,” Petra spoke up. “But now you have found your tribe. I am wondering if you are still wishing to come back to me.”

Dorothea did not answer immediately. Her fingers cradled Petra’s heated cheek. “Of course the herons wanted me to stay with them. They were so overjoyed when they found me. But…” A loud sigh permeated the air as Dorothea’s eyes looked towards the side. “I was never really a part of the heron tribe to begin with, not really. I was an outsider, a commoner even amongst them. I left to roam the Empire when I was only eight years old, and no one ever came looking for me. Even though they’re my people, my kin… I don’t really feel a connection with them. The only people to ever treat me as though I were anything more than just a common girl were the members of the Mittelfrank Opera Company, and well, you. And, well, while I’d love to return to the grand stage someday, I just...” She hesitated while searching for the right words. “The stage is temporary, and my fame fleeting. I was only loved by those who were astounded by my beauty and voice, those who showered me with gifts… and those who wanted to buy me and make me their belonging. Seriously… Manuela got so many offers for hundreds of thousands of gold. I need another future, Petra. And I’ve found one… right beside you. I want to see Brigid, and I want to see this future that you so proudly speak about.” 

The continued grasp of a warm blush spread upon Petra’s cheeks. “Dorothea… I am having much... honor... in your kind words. You are making my heart race!”

“I should hope so. After all, I _ am _ going to be your wife, am I not?” Dorothea reminded the other woman.

_Wife!?_ Now the rush of red to her face was growing far stronger, and her heart was like a galloping horse racing upon the battlefield. “My wife!?” Petra exclaimed. “You are really meaning that?”

“Of course! I mean, you’ve offered to let me live together with you in your homeland, I’d certainly _ hope _ you were intending on marrying me. Or were you hoping to meet someone else?” inquired Dorothea.

Petra frantically shook her head. “No! No! Of course I am wanting to be marrying you!” she shouted louder than she intended. “I was simply not expecting you to be so forward!”

A light laugh passed through Dorothea’s lips, and she pressed a quick kiss to Petra's forehead. “Well then, it’s decided! But oh, you can think of a more proper proposal later, if you’d like. I’m not sure how they go about deciding all that in Brigid.”

“I will be preparing a proposal, then!” Petra giggled. She'd have to find a proper ring, as custom in Fódlan. “Please be looking forward to it!”

“Of course I will, Petra. Of course…” sighed Dorothea. She slid off of her love and snuggled into her side, clutching Petra's nightgown tightly. As her tired eyes began to close, she hummed a low, peaceful tune to herself. 

"Dorothea..." whispered Petra, listening intently to her soft hums.

"Hey, Petra. Can you do me a favor? I'd love for you to tell me more about our future home... about Brigid. I know you've told me so many things before, but... even if it's the same as what you've said before, I still want to listen.."

Petra swallowed, and nodded. She could feel the ever-present homesickness linger unpleasantly, almost bringing tears to her eyes. "Brigid is a beautiful land made up of many islands surrounded by the ocean... in Brigid, we are often praying to the spirits of the ocean, who are bringing us food and protection..." she began, recalling the faint memory of sand underneath her bare feet, of the waves crashing against the shore with a mighty roar. Since when had such precious memories begun to feel more like a distant dream? "...It is a land of peace, of nature... and of freedom. The Laguz and Beorc of Brigid get along, and we are sharing trade with one another."

"Do you think your people will mind you marrying a Laguz?" Dorothea asked.

"I am not certain, but even if they are unsure of you, I will be showing them how wonderful a person you are, and the beauty of the Laguz. I dream of the Laguz tribes and the Beorc of Brigid coming together as one, sharing our islands and nature in harmony. One day, when I am queen, I will be showing you this Brigid that I have always dreamed of... this Brigid that is free." Petra's voice was strong, hopeful, as she spoke of the future she had been pining for. Each day, she trained harder and harder, even sometimes wearing her body down to the point of collapse. It was all for the sake of her dream, for the sake of her people who had no one else to rely on but her. 

"That sounds wonderful, Petra," breathed Dorothea. "I'll stay by your side, I'll help you make this Brigid of yours a reality... I promise, my love."

"Thank you, my Dorothea, my wonderful, wonderful Dorothea..."

It was not long before the two slipped into wondrous dreams of a shared future together in Brigid.

* * *

The journey back was just as long as the way there, but in a sense, it felt shorter given the arrival of some new blood. The same, stale conversations were renewed with new stories and personalities. Edelgard in particular had found a great comfort in Lysithea, the strange mage who shared the unique feature of possessing twin Brands. As for Petra, she had spent most of her time alongside Dorothea and Leonie, a cat Laguz who she had learned shared her passion for hunting. The tribe from which she came valued fishing and hunting as a hallmark of their culture, with many Laguz competing on who could bring back the most game. Of course, the cat Laguz had far different methods of hunting than a Beorc like Petra. They fought and hunted only with their fangs and claws, and Leonie had demonstrated her capabilities by leaping into the air with her powerful hind paws and catching a giant bird in her jaws. They then had cooked it around the campfire, Beorc and Laguz alike sitting and chatting about absolutely anything that came to mind. For those moments, it felt as though the whole world was at peace.

But it would not last long, for when they returned to the Imperial Base, new harsh regimens were set in place for training. Edelgard had set in place a strict schedule for each soldier, consisting of rotating training stations and meal breaks in between. Free periods were few, and the whole base seemed to be filled to the brim with determined soldiers, some clad in red and the double-headed eagle and some in gold, making their way from room to room to study their chosen weapon. 

Petra herself was constantly shifting between practicing her skills upon the ground and methods in the air upon her wyvern. Unfortunately, very little of her time lined up with Dorothea, who was primarily focused on her study of magic and fighting in her beast form. There would be occasions of which the two would meet to practice their swordsmanship, but even then casual conversation wasn’t something they could engage in. The only time the two of them could share together was when night fell, and they were rounded up for dinner. It was a shame, but Petra constantly kept herself going by reminding herself of the future that Dorothea and her had discussed together. It was not simply going to happen on its own, and Petra needed to be in tip-top shape.

“It’s weird,” Leonie commented one evening. “Everyone used to act like the Alliance was the only place where Laguz existed anymore, but there’s so many here." 

“I thought the same when I came here for the first time,” Dorothea agreed. “I was surprised to see how many Laguz were still alive and fighting for the Empire! I have to admit, it… makes me wonder how many there are in the Kingdom… if any.”

If the rumors were true about the Kingdom allowing the church to utilize Laguz for experiments, Petra couldn’t imagine that there were very many. A shiver went down her spine at the thought. 

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” Linhardt spoke up. He rarely was this engaged in conversation, only choosing to do so when it involved his Brand research. “I wonder exactly how many Laguz hearts they need for their experiments, and what exactly their motivations are. If Lady Edelgard is right about the instructor carrying unique blood, what sort of Brand are they hoping to engrave into her? Different Brands grant different abilities, after all. I’ve heard that those who possess a tiger Brand, for instance, have higher defensive capabilities than a regular Beroc.” The focus of his attention changed to Lysithea, who had paused her meal to listen. “What do you think? You’ve had more experience with them than anyone else.”

Lysithea huffed. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t like talking about it, okay?” she retorted, clearly not in the mood to discuss her more than tragic past. “Especially not in front of so many people!”

Linhardt shook his head. “Someday, I’d like to get to the bottom of your Brands. The black dragon and the white dragon, is it? Even in Fódlan, dragon Laguz are scarce. They were once even considered to be sacred creatures,” he rambled onwards, not particularly caring if anyone else had something to say. “I’ve even heard strange rumors that Lady Rhea is Laguz herself, but who knows, really? It would certainly be interesting if that were the case. Perhaps injecting the instructor with that sort of power is their goal. Is that why those who slither are lending their methods to the Church? But then, why would a group who openly opposes the Church choose to work for it… hm...”

“There you go again,” sighed Caspar. “Can’t we just have a meal in peace?”

“He’s got a point,” Leonie interjected. “I don’t remember Jeralt having a Brand, and usually I’d be able to sense that sort of thing, you know?” Her thin tail slithered around the air like a lost snake, the tip flickering back and forth. “Still. If the instructor really _ is _ Jeralt’s daughter, I have a duty to save her! I swore to Jeralt that I would follow in his footsteps!”

Lysithea mumbled something about how Leonie _ always _ talked about that and went back to her food, blocking out the rest of the conversation. 

“I have had surprise,” Petra spoke up. “I was thinking that many Beorc hated Laguz in Fódlan, but it is seeming like many in Alliance do not have hatred.”

Leonie shrugged. “I never used to know what to think about the Beorc ‘til Jeralt saved our tribe. I don’t mind ‘em, really. I’m even more surprised that you don’t harbor any resentment, Dorothea,” the cat spoke, eyeing the songstress from across the table. “You seem to be really close with everyone here! Especially Petra.”

“Oh? Well, I never really was apart of the heron tribe to begin with, and… well. Let’s just say that Petra’s opened my heart a bit wider,” Dorothea replied, winking at her lover. She slipped her hand underneath the table, stealthily grabbing Petra’s own hand and squeezing it. The action caused Petra to jolt up a bit, a surprise blush creeping onto her face. Surely, this simple interaction between the two would draw more than enough gossip, judging by the interested look on a few of the others faces. 

“I… see…” mumbled Leonie. Clearly, she wasn’t one who cared much for gossip or romance.

That night, the two of them retired to their room. Though Edelgard had yet to find Dorothea a room of her own, neither of them minded. Night had become the only time the two were able to fully embrace their love for one another. In a way, it felt to Petra as though they were already married to each other. While Dorothea lay curled up on her side, fast asleep with a white wing covering over Petra much like a blanket, a slight worry overcame the huntress. The day of the battle was fast approaching, and though she had trained with all of her might, she could not shake the idea of losing her love amongst the flames of war. Dorothea was more than capable of fighting on her own, but traces of anxiety were still ever present. What would she do if she were to lose Dorothea, permanently this time? Perhaps her heart would shatter into thousands of pieces, never to be fixed again. 

What would happen if _she_ were to die, leaving Brigid with no queen? Would her people be able to free themselves from the Empire, or would they be forced to wither away while still stuck in their binds?

Swallowing her anxiety, Petra remembered their promise to one another. The promise to always meet each other again, back at the great tree. 

_ Even if I were to die… I don’t think that would stop me, Dorothea. My ghost would wait there for you, until one day, we could be together once more… _

With that thought, she settled into a peaceful slumber.

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Guardian Moon**

It was the beginning of the Guardian Moon when the Imperial Army and the Alliance Army attacked. The winter air was flowing in at full force, enhanced only by the frigid conditions of Faerghus. For this battle, Petra had been ordered to wear the armor of a Wyvern Master rather than her traditional Brigid garb, which helped her deeply with the issue of experiencing lower temperatures than the girl had ever felt in her life. Still, the chill that she felt when icy wind swept through her mane of wine red hair as she soared through the skies of Fódlan was enough to send shivers down her spine. They had been flying north for quite some time, a cluster of wyvern and pegasus riders all around her… and, of course, a beautiful white heron soaring right at her side. 

“Kingdom soldiers have surely spotted us by now. Prepare for a possible incoming attack,” warned the general at the head of the flier army. 

Petra and Dorothea had been assigned to fight off the oncoming forces of Faerghus and the Church, and to create a diversion so that Empire soldiers could raid Kingdom base and search for the missing Byleth Eisner. Of course, this meant taking on some of the mightiest soldiers the pair of enemies had to offer, but Petra had spent day and night training for this very moment. She had an array of weapons to choose from, including a deadly, legendary sword given the name of "Mercurius" that had been gifted to her for the purpose of this battle. Besides, with Dorothea at her side to keep the embers of war lit within her, she felt as though she was an unstoppable soldier.

“Descend now! Kingdom enemies approach! It is time for battle!” ordered the general. “Ready your weapons and spare no mercy!”

With that order, Petra commanded her wyvern to dive downwards. The flock of fliers came firing towards the ground like a barrage of arrows, and before she knew it, Petra was on the ground in a near empty field surrounded by hundreds of soldiers carrying the symbol of the blue lion. Her enormous wyvern let out a large cry as she lunged like a wild animal for the first enemy she could find, burying her sword in his chest. The sacred weapon ripped through his armor like it was nothing more than a thin sheet of paper. Hot blood splattered upon her mount and armor, but she could not let herself falter. Long ago she had thrown away the sorrow of taking another’s life, for if she prayed to the spirits of Brigid, she knew their souls would find peace in the afterlife. She fought like a wild hurricane, swinging her sword through anyone who dare approach her. All around her, people were screaming, dying, even her own fellow Empire Soldiers. Healers were frantically weaving through the battlefield attempting to reach those on their final breath before the Goddess took them into her hands. But Petra had no time to pay attention to that.

As Petra took on a burly soldier with a giant axe, Dorothea swooped in like a hurling fireball and struck him directly in the face with talons sharp as knives, eliciting a scream as he was temporarily blinded by the flurry of feathers. Petra used the opportunity to draw her bow from her back and shoot him directly into the chest, felling him in an instant. Before an enemy soldier could sneak up behind her, Dorothea swung towards the rear and shot a gust of wind magic at him with her mighty wings, causing the man to stumble backwards into a tree. 

“Watch out!” Dorothea warned Petra. “There’s another in front of you!”

She didn’t need another warning. Petra swept around and buried a hatchet into the stomach of an oncoming swordmaster, who had no time to react to the huntress’s speed. 

“I have gratitude!” shouted Petra to the heron. 

The two forged their way forward, fighting soldier after soldier. The enemy base was visible in the distance, though the gray clouds above were threatening to soon bring down a torrent of rain. A loud crack of thunder reverberated in the distance and shook the very ground on which they fought. A pool of crimson was left in their wake, fallen soldiers of both enemy and ally left to soak in the mixture of blood. Though Petra was getting tired and had a few scratches upon her armor, she would not let herself falter. The weight of both Fódlan and Brigid lay upon her shoulders, after all. 

Their pathway soon met an enormous obstacle. A giant tiger Laguz standing almost even feet tall took his place before Petra, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He stared at them, cold and emotionless. 

“I will not let you lay a finger upon his Highness,” the tiger Laguz boomed out.

Dorothea landed by Petra’s side, her beast form dissolving. “Those clothing.. You’re from Duscur, aren’t you?” she recognized. Duscur, the land of Laguz that had been scorched to ash following the murder of the former king of Faerghus. The Laguz who lived there were the ones blamed for the carnage, but Petra had always had an inkling that it was nothing more than a false flag, _ especially _now that she knew of the experiments the corpses of the Laguz were used for. “You’re fighting for the Kingdom… even though it was the Kingdom who destroyed Duscur.”

He nodded firmly. “I could say the same to you, heron. You are fighting for a woman who scorched your people to the ground for power.” He raised his clawed hands, preparing for a fight. “I do not wish to spill the blood of a heron, but for his Highness, I will do anything.”

“Edie? No no, you’ve got it all wrong…” Dorothea started, but ceased the discussion immediately when she realized any sort of attempt to convince him otherwise would be futile. Was that perhaps, why the Kingdom was so keen to fight against Edelgard? Did they think her the true cause for the massacre of Serenes Forest, and in turn the Tragedy of Duscur?

With a growl, the man shifted into the form of an enormous, muscular, gray tiger twice the size of Petra. Sabre teeth bared themselves at the two of them as huge claws the size of daggers unsheathed themselves from his front paws. The huntress flinched, the grip on her sword slipping slightly in fear of the Laguz that stood before her like an immovable wall. If they had any chance of winning this war, she had to take care of this man. She slid down from her mount and patted the wyvern on the head. If she wanted to win, she needed the ability to be quick on her feet.

Petra swung her sword as the tiger lunged, claws hitting the blade of her sword with a clang. She stumbled backwards from the sheer force of their collision and nearly fell to the grass, only barely managing to keep herself steady. He hit like a rampaging wildfire, and Petra knew that this was going to be a far from easy fight. 

Dorothea spread her wings wide and transformed herself back into that of a heron. She swung her wings and created a magical gale that raged towards the tiger, but the creature barely even flinched when the spell hit him. He shook it off as though it were nothing and raised a mighty paw, slamming it down on Petra’s side and causing her to lose her breath. With a quick step forward, the beast slammed his head into her stomach with all his weight. Petra spluttered out a mouthful of crimson blood upon impact, her armor doing little to nothing to protect her against the oncoming attack. Her legs bent backwards as she plummeted onto the ground. The Laguz attempted to pin her down by the shoulders and rip his razor sharp teeth into her, but she still had the strength to ram her blade into his exposed stomach, slicing him firmly from one end to the other. Though his massive muscles prevented the sword from penetrating his flesh deeply, it was enough to get him to stumble off of her. The heron swooped forward with her giant talons outstretched grazed his back hard enough to coat her nails with blood. 

“Hm… Fine then,” grumbled out the tiger. “Then. For his Highness, I…” From a sack on the ground, the beast fished out a glowing crimson orb with his paw, which seemed to pulsate like a beating heart. “Dimitri, you are the one true king…!” he declared, before stomping on it and shattering it under the weight of his body. Thick, black fluid seeped out of the orb and attached onto the tiger like tar, soon swallowing him whole. Petra and Dorothea stepped backwards as the black substance grew into a huge mass, shifting the tiger’s entire body alongside it. The Laguz’s muscles bulged, his fangs and claws elongated, and his body grew to nearly six times the size as it was previously. His eyes glazed over with a fierce red color, losing all calmness and instead being replaced by an undying, feral rage. The ground shook as the newly transformed beast stepped forward, snarling. 

In all her time in Fódlan and Brigid, Petra had never seen a Laguz quite like this. It was completely unnatural. The calm man that had stood before them was now completely gone, reduced to nothing more than a thoughtless beast that craved blood. 

“W...what? I do not have understanding,” uttered Petra, her voice trembling. “What has happened to him?”

Dorothea craned her long neck forward. “I’ve… heard of it once or twice,” she breathed out. “Rumors. From the Alliance tribe… of something that can make a Laguz turn feral. They become stronger, but… lose all sense of themselves. They become nothing more than beasts.”

Why, why would this tiger choose to become something like that? Was he truly_ that _ dedicated to the cause of the Kingdom? She had no time to ponder the issue, because the huge beast was raising his massive paw and unfurling claws now twice the size of her sword. Despite her bleeding, Petra sidestepped out of the way of the rampaging Laguz, claws narrowly missing her and instead cutting through blades of grass. He let out a boisterous roar that pierced the ears of every opponent on the battlefield. 

“I… I am not able to be defeating him…!” gasped Petra, panic filling her being. “He is too strong!”

“Petra!” Dorothea shouted frantically. 

All the training in the world couldn’t prepare her for this. She felt as though her shoes were glued to the ground, and all she could do was stare helplessly at the newly-turned beast, her mouth agape. It was as though the fire in her heart had immediately been extinguished by the rain that now fell from the sky in a light drizzle. Her future was flashing before her eyes, the dreams she had of marrying Dorothea and freeing her homeland withering away. She was to die here, and there was nothing she could do.

A bolt of dark magic struck the beast, causing him to screech. From behind Petra stood Lysithea with her hand outstretched, eyes narrowed. “So, this was another one of their experiments, huh…” she growled. 

“Don’t worry! Help is on the way!” shouted Leonie, barreling towards the giant beast. Her form shifted into a large orange cat as she flung herself at the tiger’s face, claws raking down his face. The Laguz shook his head frantically in an attempt to throw her off of him, but her large claws kept her firmly attached to him. 

Seeing an opportunity, Petra grabbed her sword from the ground and howled out a war cry. Her weapon struck a leg and dug into the creatures flesh, freeing it of some fur. Dorothea, meanwhile, took to the skies and shot another barrage of magic at its back. The hopeless situation was suddenly turning on its head. From the backlines, Caspar was charging ahead with silver gauntlets encasing his fists, and Bernadetta was readying her brave bow for a powerful shot. Her battalion fired an array of arrows at the tiger’s flesh, burying deeply into his side. The creature roared in rage, limbs flailing absolutely everywhere from the onslaught. He swiped his paw against his face and flung Leonie off to the ground. Luckily, the dexterous cat landed upon her four paws as all cat Laguz were said to do with only minimal scratches. 

“All right!” Caspar shouted. “I’ve been waiting for this!” He wasted no time in launching himself off the ground and striking the monster with the nails of his gauntlets. “Take this!”

“Careful now, Caspar,” sighed Linhardt, trailing behind him with an exhausted look. “I can’t heal everyone at once.”

With a barrage of Alliance and Empire soldiers oncoming, the tide was turning in their favor. Ferdinand arrived on horseback with paladins alongside him, all focusing on the feral Laguz ahead. Swords were clashing against his flesh, slowly attempting to whittle down his strength. Though his muscles were massive and formed hard as steel armor, repeated strikes against the dazed creature were beginning to wear it out. Petra continued to cry out as she stabbed her sword into the flesh of the monster, digging it deeper and deeper until it was buried to the hilt. The storm of rage in her heart was growing ever stronger, carried on by the power of the Brigid spirits that ever guided her. “You will not be defeating me!” she declared loudly, forcing her sword deeper into the beast.

The beast growled deeply, and suddenly reached out a giant paw and swept the soldiers in front of him off their feet with a powerful whack. Petra was pushed away from the creature, losing her sword in the process. Irritated, the tiger glared down at Petra with deep red eyes. He snarled at her with fury, sensing that she was the one causing the erupting pain in his side. His enormous claws wasted no time, immediately reaching for her. Before she can even react, a piercing pain struck through her stomach, and hot blood immediately flowed up her chest to her mouth. She coughed violently as a cascade of blood fell from her chin, and slowly, she looked down to see a blade like claw pierced directly through her stomach and out her back. As the beast retracted its claw, she fell limply to the ground, eyes wide. 

Warmth was fading from her swiftly, the world blurring. All around her, people were still fighting the great beast, but she couldn't register any of that. Her mind was going blank, and she knew that death would claim her in mere seconds. A bitter smile graced her features as she faintly heard the sound of Dorothea’s pleading voice, the warmth of her fingers grasping onto her. She couldn’t understand a word the girl was saying, but it was comforting all the same. Droplets of rain splattered upon her face, concealing the single tear that slipped from her eye. “_My beloved_,” she breathed out, speaking in her native Brigid language. She knew that Dorothea too could not understand her, but in her hazed state, she could not think of the words in Fódlan language. “_Don’t cry. We promised to meet again by the Great Tree, remember? My spirit will always be waiting there for you, okay? Please make sure my grandfather finds Brigid a new ruler._" As the warmth crept from her body, Petra closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. The spirits of Brigid were nearby, even here on foreign soil. A shame that she wouldn’t get to see her home again, a shame she failed to free it from its shackles. As life ebbed out of her and she prepared to be taken away, she heard something. 

Singing.

An angelic voice was calling out to the heavens, singing a song of ancient words, the meaning long ago lost by time. The calming melody reached out to Petra and held her within its embrace, constricting her in a tight warmth. This song… it was surely Dorothea who was singing, but it was not a song she had heard from her before. It was softer, and even though she didn’t understand the lyrics, she could tell they were not mournful, but full of hope and vigor. It was as though it was telling her that it was not her time, that the Spirits did not have permission to take her now, for she had another purpose. As the rhythm of music shook her to her very core, she could feel the pain in her stomach melting away within seconds. Her eyes shot wide open, revealing a world she could see as clear as day. Air filled her lungs in a gust of newfound life, and her upper half darted right up. When she looked down in befuddlement upon her stomach, she found no trace of injuries. 

All around her, the song was continuing. Dorothea, perched upon a rock in beast form, was singing her heart out to the heavens. As if in a trance, Petra’s gaze locked upon her lover. She felt her heart calming, all negative emotions being washed away in a sea of lyrics. She giggled a bit to herself, cheeks red. Even in beast form, Dorothea was still beautiful. Oh, how very in love she was with this girl, Petra thought to herself. 

As the song ceased, Dorothea lowered her head. In a flurry of feathers, she returned to her regular form, smiling warmly at Petra.

“A healing song I learned… from the herons back in the Alliance,” she explained. “It’s _ incredibly _ hard to sing, I thought for sure I would fail—” 

“ —Dorothea!” shouted Petra, slamming her body against the heron’s without a second thought. Her arms entangled themselves around her lover's body. “You have saved me! Oh, Dorothea!” She couldn’t stop herself from slamming her lips against the other woman’s, despite their place upon the battlefield in front of so many soldiers. If people were still questioning their relationship, they surely knew now the nature of their love now… if they were even looking. 

“Hold on there, Petra!” Dorothea interjected, having to pry the girl away from her. Her chest was heaving from the song she had just sung. “We’re still in the middle of a battlefield! It’s not over yet.”

_Ah, right_. Petra’s head whipped back around to the giant tiger Laguz, who was still fighting ferociously despite the massive amount of damage that was accumulating. He kept flailing, throwing around various soldiers who splattered onto the floor and died immediately. Members of the Imperial Army and the Alliance surrounded the huge Laguz on all sides. Battalions were charging forward, and giant wagons full of barrels containing both fire and poison were deployed. Attack after attack, the Laguz was being worn down thin. Pulling out her bow and retrieving a single arrow from her quiver, Petra took aim at the forehead of the tiger and fired. The other archers followed suit, stabbing the beast with hundreds and hundreds of arrows. Unable to fight any more, the beast collapsed onto the ground in a huge heap and withered back down to the calm man who stood there previously. No one got time to say anything. Ferocious Empire soldiers mercilessly drove their weapons into him, making sure that he was indeed dead.

Dorothea winced at the sight, her heart growing heavy. “He didn’t know,” she whispered to Petra. “He thought Edie was the cause of this war… the cause of the Tragedy of Duscur. He didn’t deserve to die for that.”

Petra eyed her lover and shook her head. “It is… the price of war. I am wishing there was another way,” she replied. “But I am thinking that nothing would have convinced him.”

Petra left Dorothea’s side, going to retrieve the blood covered sword that had been buried within the tiger. As she pulled it from his flesh, she whispered a prayer for him to the spirits of Brigid, for them to take his soul and deliver it to a peaceful afterlife. Her heart ached for such a pointless death, but she could do nothing else. She slid it back into its sheath at her belt side and whistled for her wyvern. The battle was not yet over. They had taken care of all the Kingdom soldiers on this side, but within the base, another war was being fought. Petra climbed atop her loyal steed and pulled on its reins, ordering it to take to the sky. 

But she did not get much time to do so. A horde of Empire soldiers was barreling out of the fortress, shouting orders for the rest of the army to retreat. Petra didn’t have time to be confused. Suddenly, a huge dragon crashed out from the top of the base, howling in rage. With a gaping breath, it fired a laser of hot fire to the ground, scorching those unfortunate enough to have been too slow exiting the building. Petra immediately forced her wyvern to turn around and shoot itself forward through the sky.

“Dorothea!” she shouted to the ground. “Dorothea!”

“I’m here, Petra!” a voice shouted from the ground. Surely enough, a white heron took to the sky and joined Petra. “Let’s get out of here!”

“I am in agreement!”

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Pegasus Moon**

The Imperial and Alliance forces took a decisive victory over the Church and the Kingdom that day, but they were not without heavy losses. Several key generals had perished upon the battlefield, including some of Edelgard’s own personal guards. But, in the process, the Empire had managed to retrieve Byleth from the depths of the Kingdom Base, where she had been held for the last four years. In addition to that, Edelgard had managed to strike down King Dimitri, who was a pale shadow of his former self, fueled by rage and hatred. He was dragged down to a prison deep beneath Enbarr, where he had been held for questioning. Petra herself had not been able to see him, but she wished not to. Surely, a part of his rage had to do with the fact that his loyal retainer and best friend, Dedue, had died at their hands. However, Lady Rhea and the Knights of Seiros were still at large. The mighty dragon Laguz that had broken out of the base prior to the call for Imperial retreat was indeed Lady Rhea, as it turned out, and to say she was _ not _ pleased would be a hell of an understatement. Despite everything, however, there had been no intel on their next course of action.

As for Edelgard…

“Still sleeping,” the emperor sighed, covering Byleth with a sheet. For the past month, Byleth had been completely unconscious. Her hair had grown a lighter shade from all the strange experiments that had been performed on her, and her heart was completely still. It would be easy to assume that she was no longer alive, but she still possessed a pulse. Still, it seemed that absolutely nothing could rouse her from her slumber. Edelgard had tried almost anything she could think of, and it was clear to the other members of the army that grief had gotten to her. “Dorothea. Is there truly nothing you can do?”

Dorothea, who had been watching from a distance, shook her head. “I’m sorry, Edie. I don’t know any songs that could wake her,” she sighed out, a sympathetic glimmer in her eyes. 

“I’ve heard stories… of the Galdr of Rebirth,” Edelgard continued onwards, not looking up from Byleth’s sleeping form. “I’ve heard it could revive anything.”

“Sorry… I don’t think I could ever hope to sing something like that,” Dorothea apologized. “It’s a complicated song that requires more than one heron to perform. I… I might be a talented songstress, but even something like that is—” 

“—I understand. My apologies, Dorothea,” replied Edelgard with a deep sigh. “I suppose my grief has gotten the better of me.”

Petra shook her head. “You do not have a reason to be apologizing,” she insisted. “I have understanding… there was a time I held much grief as well. You are remembering, yes?”

Dorothea’s fingers grazed Petra’s ponytail comfortingly. She knew well what her lover was talking about.

“With all due respect, your Majesty,” Hubert interjected, “we do not have much time to be waiting around. It is a curiosity that the Church of Seiros haven’t attacked us yet. I understand your grief, but our entire Empire is at risk of an attack.” Though Hubert was a loyal man who followed Edelgard no matter where she went, he was prone to making decisions for her at times if he thought it was for her wellbeing. 

“I know, Hubert. You’re right,” Edelgard agreed. Still, her eyes did not wander from the unconscious woman before her. “I just… I have the lives of hundreds of herons flowing through my blood. This Brand… it’s supposed to grant me the power to protect those I hold dear, yet…” She shook her head. She was showing far too much vulnerability, and everyone knew it. The emperor cleared her throat and forced upon her face a mask of indifference. “Regardless. Petra. Have you heard from your grandfather?”

“Ah, yes. Brigid is still to be offering supplies to the Empire, but… we are only a small island. If the Church is to engage my grandfather in battle, I am not thinking he or anyone else will survive,” lamented Petra. Even though she was the princess of Brigid, she was still absolutely powerless politically. Brigid was at the mercy of Fódlan, especially now that Petra had chosen to oppose the Church of Seiros. 

“...Very well. Hubert? Have you heard from Claude?” Edelgard asked.

“Indeed. Claude is willing to deploy whenever. He and his army have been holding a strong defense against the Church.” The Kingdom was now under full control of the Church, given that Dimitri had been taken captive. It was clear, however, that there was some inner discourse between the army, for they had not yet launched a strike on either opposing force. 

“What about Dimitri?” she inquired next.

Hubert shook his head. “Still nothing.”

“A shame. It seems he’d rather die than talk,” Edelgard commented emotionlessly, now staring out the infirmary window. “I suppose we have to place our trust in Linhardt and Hannenman to research Byleth’s Brand.”

That was another thing that had been discovered upon Byleth’s recovery. In addition to the Brand she had been born with, she now possessed an enormous brand that overtook her entire back, unlike any the Empire had seen before. Linhardt and Hannenman, two Brand scholars, had taken their time to research the Brand, but had so far come up with nothing. Petra herself had been baffled by the strange mark, having not known that Brands could even get that large and intricate. It was certainly a first for many. Not even Laguz like Dorothea or Leonie knew, only saying that they could sense an uncomfortable, overwhelming feeling of thousands upon thousands of lives trapped within.

“We have… methods, of making him talk, should you so order it,” Hubert reminded his liege. “Of course, we cannot guarantee his sanity will survive…”

“I’d rather not use such inhumane methods,” Edelgard objected. “What better would we be than the Church of Seiros?”

“Hm. If you say, your Majesty,” the sinister servant replied, not totally satisfied with her answer. It was well known that Hubert was not opposed to going above and beyond for the sake of his liege’s ambitions. How much blood tainted the soil beneath his feet, Petra would never be sure.

Dorothea tugged on Petra’s hand, leaning into her ear. “Perhaps we should give Edie some space,” she suggested. 

Petra gave her lover a firm nod. She interlocked their fingers together and tugged Dorothea away from the infirmary, giving Edelgard a final sympathetic look. The atmosphere around the base had grown heavy and dreary in the last few months, with all of the Adrestian Empire encased in a veil of anxiety. The possibility of a surprise attack from Lady Rhea and the Knights of Seiros set afire fear in the hearts of all the Empire’s citizens. Given how powerful she was, it was more than likely that she could burn the entire Empire to the ground if she so wanted to. And yet, she hadn’t. Despite the fierce battle last month, neither side had made a move. What an odd time for a state of deadlock.

The two women took their place on the balcony overlooking the Empire. The sun had already begun to set, turning the dusty sky a deep orange. The bitter winter air swirled mercilessly though, scathing their skin with the harsh reminder of the coming year end. Petra shivered. Even after living in the Empire for all these years, she could never quite get the hang of the climate. Dorothea peered down at her quaking lover, extending a wing and wrapping it around her back as though it were a blanket. Petra graciously accepted the gesture and snuggled into the warmth of Dorothea’s soft feathers. Such was the benefit of having a Laguz as a girlfriend. 

“Even though we’re still stuck in this war, the world is still beautiful,” uttered Dorothea. “Sure, it’s chilly and all, but…”

“I am in agreement. I am lucky to be having such a wonderful girlfriend. Your feathers are so soft!” Petra gushed. “I have jealousy, sometimes. You are able to fly, and you have such beauty. And your voice… your voice is like… it is like the Spirits of Brigid have given you a blessing!” 

Dorothea laughed bitterly. “Oh, you shouldn’t be jealous of me, Petra. All those things have gotten me this far, but it’s also because of all those things that… well, I’ve suffered,” she spoke out, sounding rather distant as she gazed upon the world before her with a sad smile. “It’s because of my voice that I was pulled off the streets of Enbarr, away from the Beorc nobles who beat me with rocks and tried snapping my wings in half. But it’s also why I had to leave. Like I said before, so many nobles wanted to purchase me. They wanted to lavish me in their lifestyle, buy me all the gifts I wanted in return for simply existing. But it all felt… so empty.” Her fingers clutched the steel railing in front of her so hard that her knuckles began to turn white. “No one loved me, not really. They saw my face, my wings… they heard my voice, and they thought they were in love with me. But they never talked to me, they just… saw the girl who sung upon a grand stage and thought that was who I was. Didn’t help that, well, after the massacre, some blamed me for the death of the King… and some people saw me as even more of a rarity. A rare diamond, buried underneath the ash. Their demand for me skyrocketed. I had to leave, I had to. Even if that meant saying goodbye to Manuela and everyone else at the company…”

Softly, Petra placed her hand atop Dorothea’s and shook her head. “I… I am not loving you for those reasons,” she began, before realizing that her words sounded wrong. “...Ah. I am meaning to say… I am loving these things about you, yes, but it is not the reason I am wanting to spend my life with you. I am thinking… you hold much beauty, and I am wishing to be listening to your voice every day. But I am loving the little things about you. The way you are wanting to learn about Brigid, how you are talking with such happiness about things that you like. You are never making fun of me for the way that I speak. You are… no… you have such a kind heart. That is why… I love you.”

“Petra… what lovely things to say... I may just cry…” whispered Dorothea, her voice trembling just a bit.

“Oh! If you will be crying, you can have my, um… ah! My shoulder. For your crying. My shoulder will always be available for you,” Petra immediately offered. 

“Oh yeah? I don’t need a reservation or anything?” jested the heron.

“A reservation? For… my shoulder?” Petra replied, befuddlement decorating her face. It took a moment for realization to wash over her. “Ah. You are having a joke.”

Dorothea couldn’t help but giggle just a bit over how adorable her wonderful girlfriend was. "No, but seriously, Petra. You've done so much for me, I can only hope that one day, I get to do the same for you. You've been through just as much as I have, if not more. You've managed to stay strong all this time for your homeland, even though you had your own parents murdered by the Empire... You're really something else, my Petra."

"...I had no choice but to be strong," Petra told her, a fist clenching at her side. Her form went rigid and stiff as she recalled her early days of torment at the Empire, when she had been first dumped in this strange land. "When I was taken here to the Empire, everyone gave me such strange looks, as though I were not a human, but an animal. If I were to be crying, I would just be yelled at. I had to learn not to cry so that I could be moving forward, so that I could be learning and fighting. Even though every day, I am hurting, I cannot allow myself to be weak. I must be strong, for myself, for my people, for my grandfather, for all of Brigid."

Dorothea looked at her girlfriend with a mixture of empathy and admiration shining in her deep green eyes. "Well, you've certainly proven yourself over and over again. I'm so glad we'll be leaving this awful Fódlan behind, and creating a brand new one. I couldn't ask for anyone better to be doing it with." 

"Yes, I am glad to be having you, my Dorothea..."

For just this moment, all there was in the world was just the two of them, here upon the balcony, watching as the sun sank and turned the sky into a bitter black. It felt perfect. They simply allowed themselves to bask in each others presence for a few minutes, not saying a word to one another. 

“I am thinking… the final battle is approaching.” Petra broke the silence after about twenty minutes had passed by. “We are not having much time left for peace. So that is why… I wish to be asking something of you.”

“Oh?” Dorothea looked down at her lover, curious.

Despite how far the two of them had come, Petra was still nervous. “I have been thinking… about the conversation we had in the Alliance. Of what we are to be doing when the war is over.” Her left hand slid to her side, to a small pouch she kept attached to her hip. “And even though you were saying you wished to be spending your life with me, I am thinking… we have not yet made it official.” 

“Petra, you don’t mean…” Dorothea gasped, her eyes growing wide.

From the small pouch, Petra retrieved a golden ring. It was a present she had received overseas, in a care package that her grandfather occasionally would send her. It had a beautiful green stone embedded within, one that could only be found upon the shores of Brigid. It was meant to be worn by her, but from the moment she had gotten it, she had thought of Dorothea. The gorgeous green simply reminded her so much of her Dorothea's beautiful eyes. She took a deep breath in before speaking, attempting to calm her heart. “My beloved… you are the most precious thing in the world to me. You enchant and fascinate me, and each day, you set my heart aflame,” she recited. “So… I am want… no… I want to marry you, Dorothea. Will you accept?’

Dorothea stared at the ring settled upon the palm of Petra’s hand. “Petra,” she breathed out, her voice little more than just a whisper. “That was… simply beautiful. Have you been practicing?”

Her cheeks aflame, the princess nodded with a bashful smile. “I have been. I did not want to be messing up my proposal…” she admitted sheepishly.

“It was wonderful, Petra. And this ring… it’s incredible…! Of course… of course I’ll marry you, Petra!” proclaimed Dorothea, a look of sheer elation gracing her features. “I starred in so many operas where I captured the heart of my beloved and gotten married… But I never dreamed that it would feel this wonderful when it actually happened!” Petra had never seen Dorothea so _ happy_, not even when they had first proclaimed their love for one another. This was something entirely different… a pledge for them to stay together no matter what may overcome them. 

Embracing the woman in front of her, Petra gave into her heart and pressed a passionate kiss to her lover’s lips. Hands trailed all over one another as they drank in the presence of one another, the feeling of their warm lips together. They had kissed many times before, but this time it felt so much different. It felt as though they were becoming one with each other, their emotions and hearts reaching out and entangling together. Their bodies shifted dangerously close to the edge, with Petra’s back pressing directly against the steel fence, the one barrier that kept them tumbling down. Petra thought to herself that she wouldn’t even care if the fence were to break and they were to fall, for Dorothea could easily carry them both in her strong wings. It creaked in a warning against the weight of the two amorous women, but neither of them reacted in any way other than strengthening their kiss. 

It was Petra who finally broke their lips apart. She clasped her hands together as Dorothea held her by the waist, staring lovingly into her eyes. “I, Petra, give you my promise. Spirits of the Earth, please be guiding us home for all of our days. Spirits of Water, please be filling our cups with kindness and good fortune. Spirits of Wind, please be gifting us freedom and divine protection,” she prayed, eyes closing as she spoke her words out to the spirits of Brigid. She could feel their powerful presence close by, protecting her, listening to her even on a land so far from her own. “Those are the words we are saying in Brigid when we give someone our promise.”

Dorothea giggled. “I hope that the Spirits of Brigid will bless our union, then,” she joked, running her fingers up and down Petra’s waist. 

“They will be!” she assured the other woman. “I am… so happy. You have my deep gratitude… and all of my heart. For now and forever. I was just wanting to give you this ring before the battle… in case…”

Dorothea’s hand snuck off of Petra’s waist. She pressed a single finger to Petra’s lips and shook her head, knowing what her fiancée wanted to say. “I know, my love. I know. But we have time to talk about all that later, hm? Let’s just enjoy the moment…” she suggested.

Perhaps that was best, Petra thought to herself as she smiled and gave her lover a firm nod. Her arms wrapped back around her lover as she leaned in for a second kiss, which was eagerly returned in full force. For now, all thoughts of the war could stay behind. They only had this moment in time, here and now, to enjoy their newfound engagement, and they would certainly take the opportunity in full.

**Imperial Year 1184**

**Lone Moon**

The final hour was upon Fódlan.

The sky was turning dark as Imperial soldiers marched onwards towards their final conquest. The target of their next battle would be the Kingdom capitol: Fhirdiad, where Lady Rhea had made her new home. Wyvern knights and pegasus warriors clouded the sky in a massive storm, so much so that from the ground it was impossible to see much else above. A parade of cavalry pulling wagons of weapons and barrels overtook the land beneath, followed by infantry soldiers brandishing newly polished and sharpened weapons. The idea was to invade the Kingdom directly and overtake Lady Rhea before she had the opportunity to do much else, as it seemed that she had no intention of attacking herself and had shut herself within the capital of a kingdom without a king. From the other side, Alliance soldiers were to be marching in and forcing the Church of Seiros directly in the middle. 

“For the glory of the Empire, and for all of Fódlan!” Edelgard shouted from the front, raising her axe high in the air. “Soon, we shall be upon their castle. Civilian casualties are to be expected… sacrifices must be made. Do not shy away from our fight. We must reclaim this world from the beast who stole it.”

“For the Empire!” agreed a chorus of soldiers, echoing her actions by raising their own weapons into the air. “For Fódlan!”

“For all the lives who have been lost, this is their vengeance. The Laguz of Duscur, the herons of Serenes Forest… this is their battle as well. Now, onwards...!!”

Soldier morale was high, despite the bloodshed that was soon to come. Upon her wyvern, Petra clutched the reins tightly and swallowed her fear. She was not just doing this for herself… not just for Brigid, not just for Dorothea, but for _ everyone. _After this, the war would be extinguished. She would be as free as a leaf upon the wind. Beside her, Dorothea gave her a firm nod. 

There were still so many mysteries yet to be uncovered. Byleth had yet to stir from her slumber, and analysis of the Brand upon her back provided more questions than answers. King Dimitri, withering away beneath the Empire grounds, refused to speak, leading to only one other person to ask: Lady Rhea herself. Petra highly doubted the woman would be willing to give away her answers so easily, but it was the only lead they had. At this point, Edelgard was desperate. Despite the determined face she put on as she rallied the soldiers, Petra knew that on the inside, her heart was broken. The feelings she held for her lovely instructor were not unlike how Petra felt for Dorothea, and the thought of her never waking was still crushing her. How sad it was that war was the only answer.

As they approached Fhirdiad, they found absolutely no one waiting for them. The whole city was shut in, with civilians hiding deep within their houses. Edelgard stepped forward towards the city, taking a deep breath before she bellowed out: “Rhea! Members of the Church of Seiros! Surely there’s no need to continue this fight. Throw down your weapons and surrender! Unlike you, I have no desire to unleash wicked atrocities upon this world!” 

Nothing. At her side, Hubert shifted. “Their silence speaks volumes. Shall we commence our attack?”

“I’ll wait just a moment longer. There are still many residents in this city.” Despite the flames of war, Edelgard had not lost sight of herself. She was not a woman who would allow innocents to die for nothing.

The entire army was still as they awaited a sign of surrender, but the answer soon came in the form of a wicked, fiery storm raining down from the heavens. A massive fireball shot down from the sky, immediately setting the city alight. Screams of terror echoed out from every corner, innocent civilians scorching into nothing within the flames. That was all Edelgard needed. “What!? Damnit, Rhea! There really is no depth you wouldn’t sink to. Everyone, commence your attack at once! We’ll head straight for the castle and strike down their leader! Surely the Alliance Army will be joining us shortly!”

No other orders needed to be given. With that, the Imperial soldiers roared and commenced their invasion upon the burning Capitol. Petra swooped in closer to the ground, dodging flames licking at the feet of her wyvern and threatening to overtake her. Various Knights of Serios and remnants of Kingdom soldiers littered the ground, readying their arrows to strike at her. Nimbly, her wyvern dodged the incoming assault and let out a powerful roar. Petra’s sword showed no mercy as it swung at foes with little to no thought. One swift movement of her blade, and the enemy was upon the ground. All the while, she was followed by Dorothea in her beast form, clawing at enemies with her talons and delivering fearsome blows of wind magic. Whenever Petra felt tired, she would hear Dorothea singing a song of invigoration, restoring strength to her lover so that she would still have the will to fight on. Together, they were an unstoppable storm. 

Unfortunately, her rhythm could not last. A storm of arrows shot from the walls of the castle, striking her wyvern upon the wings. With a screech, the creature fell, sending Petra in a downward spiral with him. Thinking quickly, Petra leapt from her mount and allowed herself to fall freely through the air. She whispered a quick prayer to the Spirits of Brigid as the stone floor beneath her approached swiftly, threatening to crush her. It was Dorothea swooping in that saved her, catching the fabric that clung to her back with her talons just as Petra had thought she would do. The heron swooped towards the ground and placed her lover down upon her feet, right next to her dying steed.

Petra grimaced as she approached the wyvern, her gentle hands taking hold of the creature’s head. She pressed her nose to its face and repeated her prayers, feeling a stabbing pain within her heart. She had spent many weeks on end training with her wyvern, who had been a rowdy, difficult creature at first. It was through moons of bonding that she managed to tame his heart and finally take flight. “_Thank you_,” she whispered. “_You have served me well, my friend. Rest_.”

Dorothea turned around. “Petra!” she shouted, spotting an oncoming storm of armored knights. Her wings unfolded and shot out a massive gust of magic, blowing them backwards. 

Petra hesitated. As much as she wanted to stay and mourn her wyvern, the heat of battle called. To her left, Ferdinand and Linhardt were taking on a what seemed to be feral wolf Laguz, struck by the same condition as Dedue but much smaller. She withdrew her blade and let out a war cry as she cut through the flames. Her sword buried itself within the skull of the Laguz, forcing it to howl out in pain as it crumpled to the ground.

“Swiftly, we must proceed to the castle!” Ferdinand shouted out. “I am certain Lady Edelgard has gotten there already!”

“_Must _ you make this a competition even at this time?” sighed Linhardt. 

“T...that does not matter! I absolutely am not playing at such childish games!” protested the nobleman. “Come now, let us go!” Ferdinand kicked the side of his steed and took off towards the stairs of the great castle looming before them. 

Now forced to fight upon her own feet, Petra followed him with her agile legs, Linhardt close behind. Dorothea, meanwhile, soared up the steps with ease. From the top of the castle, she could hear the shrill cries of a horrible creature, nearly piercing her eardrums.

“Give her back to me! Give me back my mother!” roared a horrid echoing voice.

Petra had no time to contemplate what that meant. She leapt to the top of the stairs and came barreling forwards, coming face to face with a horde of knights. Her glistening blade was coated with blood, but it seemed that it required more still. She danced between the enemies like a butterfly, slicing and stabbing. She was far too quick for the heavy, slow swings of their axes. Though she might have been an experienced wyvern rider, she was an even better assassin. All the while, those who she could not finish were blasted by Dorothea’s magic and met the end of Ferdinand’s lance. Whenever she accumulated a scratch or was hit by an arrow, Linhardt’s white magic would wash the injury away. They fought and fought until their enemies were all lying upon the floor, a heap of corpses.

“Come, to the the top of the steps!” Ferdinand shouted. Despite what he had said before, he absolutely _ was _ making this some sort of competition. 

“Give me a second,” groaned Linhardt. “We’re not all on horses.”

After traversing a second set of stairs, the group joined up with the rest of the Imperial youth army. Most of them appeared to be in decent shape, save for Caspar who was nursing an arm with an arrow straight through it. Linhardt groaned and joined his childhood friend’s side, muttering something about how he needed to be far more careful when engaging so many enemies. 

“Do you see her?” Edelgard asked the others. “At the very top of the castle. Look.”

Edelgard’s finger pointed towards the sky. Atop the castle was an enormous dragon, screeching at the top of her lungs. She must have been five times the size Dedue was when he had transformed, and Petra gulped. The scales upon her formed a thick armor that looked nearly impenetrable.

“My claws hurt just looking at it,” sighed Leonie. “But we gotta do what we gotta do, right? Jeralt wouldn’t have run from this fight, and I won’t either!”

“I wonder if it’s weak to magic,” theorized Lysithea. Crackles of dark spikes formed on the palm of her hand, her magic sparking up. 

“Whatever it may be, we must engage it head on,” Edelgard stated. “Together, all of us at once. Understood?”

“Hell yeah!” Caspar shouted, now reinvigorated. “Let’s go in!”

“Maybe… I’ll just shoot from the backlines,” Bernadetta suggested.

“No time for that. C’mon now!” Leonie yelled, as eager as Caspar to get back into the heat of battle. She shifted back into her beast form and pounced forward, hopping up the final set of stairs with agility only possessed by those of the beast tribe.

Petra turned towards Dorothea, their gazes locking together as they nodded. This was the final step in their journey, and as terrifying as the dragon looked, they had to fight. Dedue had looked impossible to defeat at the time, and they had managed to overcome him together. With newfound determination, the two followed the crowd up the steps.

They met at the feet of Rhea, who was absolutely infuriated. “You!” she shouted towards Edelgard, pointing an accusatory claw, “give her back! Give me back my mother!” she demanded.

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” insisted Edelgard. “Tell me. Does it have to do with what you did to Byleth? What sort of experiments did you do on her?”

Rhea snarled. “She is but a vessel! A vessel for the Goddess! And you have taken her from me! When the ceremony is completed, she will be reborn!”

“Ceremony…?” Edelgard repeated. She was puzzled, but there was no time to question such things. “Whatever that may be, you do not have the right to perform your horrible experiments upon her. You may think she is your Goddess, but she is her own person. She belongs to the Empire, belongs with me!”

That was enough to set off Rhea. The dragon opened her mouth and let loose a raging pillar of fiery breath. Petra and the others managed to leap to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding the torrent of flames.

“It’s time, my eagles! Now, finish her!” Edelgard shouted.

And so it began. Petra and the others readied their weapons and lunged for the beast. Without rhythm or order, they began to crack at different sides of her. Petra attacked from the left side, joined by Dorothea and Lysthiea, while others took on her front and right. While their weapons did little to no damage against the enormous beast, it was enough to generate confusion. The creature had no idea where to attack first. She swiped her giant claws all around, trying to toss Imperial soldiers off of her body. Whenever someone was knocked backwards, they would get patched right up by one of the healers. Petra cracked at the beast’s scales with all of her might, feeling the fury of the fire spirit behind her, granting her the strength she needed. When her sword shattered, she swapped to her axe and continued right at it. “Not just for myself, for everyone! I will be defeating you here!” she declared, though she knew the dragon was hardly listening to her. “You have took the lives of too many! I will not be allowing it anymore!”

Rhea let out a piercing roar, clearly weathered down by the onslaught. Her nostrils flared with heat, and Petra knew at that moment she had to take cover. She hopped backwards and grabbed Dorothea and Lysithea by the shoulders, tackling them to the ground right before a colossal laser of fire shot out from Rhea’s mouth. She flung her flames to all sides, scorching all around her and causing screeches of pain from those unfortunate enough to have been seared by the inferno. Many of Petra’s friends were thrown backwards and hit the wall, blood splattering behind them. 

Petra swore in her Brigaeli under her breath when she noticed the damage that had been done. Luckily, she had only gotten a slight burn on her left leg, and Dorothea and Lysithea had avoided the assault entirely. She bit her lip as she stood shakily, glaring at the beast. This thing, this _creature_ who had led her people into blind faith had already taken so much from Fódlan, and she still wished for more?

“You look like you guys could need some help!” a voice echoed out from the air. An arrow shot down from above, striking Rhea directly in the head and forcing out a pained roar. When Lysithea looked up, she immediately grinned.

“Claude!” she called out. 

“The Alliance Army is here!” Claude declared. “Hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long, Edelgard!”

From the front, Edelgard let out a sigh of relief. “Took you long enough!” she retorted.

“Don’t worry. We took care of the rear army as we came in,” Claude assured her. His striking white wyvern dove onto the ground, followed by an array of other wyvern lords. “Lady Rhea sure looks different when she’s angry, huh?”

“Now’s hardly the time!” protested Edelgard.

“Sure, sure. Let’s take care of the beast before we have a happy reunion, got it.” Claude drew his bone-like bow once more, the tip of his arrow shimmering with ancient power. “Hilda? You ready for this?”

Hilda, the pink haired noble from before, grinned. She too was upon a wyvern and carrying an axe that looked far too big for a girl of her size. “Guess I gotta! Only if we can take a long nap after all this!”

“What a lovely thought,” sighed Linhardt in agreement.

Rhea looked around at the ever growing number of soldiers surrounding her. “You… all of you are heretics! Traitors of the Goddess! When she is reborn, you will suffer at her hands…!”

“Never really was a big fan of the Fódlan religion anyways,” Claude remarked nonchalantly. 

With that, the second part of their assault began. Imperial and Alliance soldiers alike flew at the beast, now from above and behind as well. Battalions charged forward and weapons struck against the beast’s armor, determined to crack it. With barrels of poison and explosives, the scales upon her were wearing down. All the while, Rhea was screeching and shooting balls of fire in every possible direction. As Petra’s axe revealed a chink in her seemingly impenetrable armor, she took the opportunity to dig it deeper. Scales began to crack and fall to the floor, and Lysithea began shooting bolts of dark magic into the wound. Dorothea's powerful wings produced razors of wind magic to sheer off more of Rhea's withering scales, and with enough wear and tear and hundreds of soldiers chipping at the massive creature, her armor soon became no more.

“You are finished, Rhea! Your reign of ternary upon this world is over!” Edelgard’s booming voice called out. “Allow me to be the one to send you to your grave…!”

“No… No…!” the dragon cried out.

Edelgard shot straight up into the air, her enormous axe thrown backwards as she readied her final strike. With all her might, she dug the sharp end straight into Rhea’s forehead, the armor immediately shattering. The blade of her axe buried into her flesh, hot blood bubbling from the wound. Edelgard withdrew her weapon and landed upon the ground with a clatter of heavy armor as the dragon grew stiff and still. Her jaw gaped open, but no sound came out. The creature’s form began to dissolve and whisk away into the ash filled wind, until she lay on the ground as nothing more than a simple woman.

The emperor approached the dying woman, teeth gritted together. “Tell me now, Rhea. Tell me what you did to my Byleth.”

“I…” gasped Rhea, shuddering. “I… wanted to revive her… my mother. The soul of my mother… rests within that girl... the blood of the Laguz was meant to reawaken her… but… no matter what I did, no matter how many hearts I fed her… the Goddess would not free herself. I was… waiting. Waiting to conduct the ceremony so that the Goddess would appear right before your very eyes in the Imperial Base, and smite you for what sins you have created.”

“Perhaps the Goddess didn’t want to be freed. Perhaps she saw your methods and thought ill of you,” sneered Edelgard. “You, Rhea, are a monster. You used the blood of innocent Laguz and turned the whole nation against them in order to fulfill your selfish desires. The only fitting punishment is _ death. _”

Edelgard did not allow another word out of Rhea. She swung her axe down upon her head, killing her in a split second. 

The beast was dead. The cause of all the pain and suffering in Fódlan was vanquished. Despite the blazing world around her, Petra smiled. 

“I, Edelgard von Hresvelg, hereby declare victory!” the emperor shouted. “Glory to the Empire! Glory to all of Fódlan!”

An array of cheers followed, from Empire soldiers to Alliance soldiers alike. Dorothea freed herself from her beast form and ran towards Petra, nearly tackling her to the ground out of sheer excitement. She squeezed her fiancée within her tight embrace and buried her face into the crook of her next. Hot tears flowed from her eyes and splattered onto Petra’s shoulders, and the Brigid princess laughed as she remembered her promise. Gentle hands caressed locks of brown hair, and a genuine smile lit her features.

Peace at last.

**Imperial Year 1185**

**Garland Moon**

“Leaving so soon?” 

At the docks of the Empire stood Petra and Dorothea, surrounded by their allies from the Empire. The Alliance Army had returned back to their homeland in the last moon, but not without bidding their friends farewell. Petra’s hand was pressed against Dorothea’s, soft skin upon soft skin. The fresh air of summer carried refreshing salt from the sea, filling her head with thoughts of her homeland. It had been ten whole years, but the faraway archipelago of Brigid called to its long missing princess. As soon as she stepped foot upon that island, she would be declared the new queen, alongside her soon-to-be wife. She had nearly forgotten what the air in Brigid tasted like, with the oceans of Fódlan only being a pale reminder. 

“Yes. You have my apologies, instructor,” Petra replied, bowing her head to Byleth. “I am knowing that you just woke up, but it is already time for me to be leaving.”

The two had spent a bit longer in Fódlan than they first thought. Dorothea had returned to Enbarr in order to reunite with members of the Mittelfrank Opera Company, who were all delighted to see her. Once Dorothea had told them about her engagement, they were all thrilled and _ insisted _ on putting on an opera for Petra to see, with Dorothea as the star. Though she was reluctant at first, the heron eventually relented. It took a good chunk of time, but the end result was well worth it. Petra would have waited thousands of days just to watch Dorothea upon the stage, dancing and singing, covered from head to toe in jewels sparkling in the spotlight. 

Byleth nodded knowingly. To her side, Edelgard fondly tucked back a strand of dark blue hair that had fallen out of place. After Rhea had been defeated, the instructor was found awake in her bed, her hair changed back to its normal hue and the Brand upon her back faded completely. She had expressed utmost confusion, having recalled nothing of the five years and being a little more than startled that her heart was suddenly beating. 

“A shame. I would have loved to get to know you a bit better,” laughed Dorothea. “You seem like a lovely woman. Edie’s a lucky girl.”

Edelgard’s normally stoic face flustered, and she glanced to the side. “You are lucky yourself. You are to be married to a princess… no, not a princess, but a queen, and a truly capable one at that,” she reminded her. 

“Oh, I know. Sometimes I wonder how I scored such a catch,” Dorothea mused, eyeing her lover warmly. The green gemstone upon her ring sparkled in the sunlight, a reminder of Petra’s dedicated to her. “I’d go as far as to say I’m the luckiest girl in the entire world! Certainly the luckiest heron.”

“You better come back sometime!” Caspar shouted, as boisterous as ever. “We’d miss you both too much if you just left without ever visiting again!”

“Of course we will be visiting! But you should be visiting Brigid as well,” Petra told the boy. “Now that the war is over, I am hoping to… erm… _ negotiate _ with the Empire. I am wanting Brigid to be independent from Fódlan, on equal ties, but at the same time, I am still wanting us all to be allies.”

Edelgard and Petra’s gazes met. “Most certainly. We have a lot of work to do here as well,” Edelgard remarked. “The Kingdom is still without a ruler. I’m still hoping to convince Dimitri of the truth and set him back upon the throne, but… who knows how that will go. I’m not even sure if he will ever be fit to rule again. Claude’s even saying that he might just hand over the entirety of the Alliance to me… I have no idea how his mind works.”

“Ah? Edelgard as the ruler of all of Fódlan?” Petra thought out loud. “I am thinking… that would not be so bad.”

“A world like that… it sounds peaceful to me!” Dorothea commented. "We may have started out on the wrong foot due to unfortunate circumstances, but you're not so bad, Edie, not bad at all."

At that, Edelgard managed a small laugh. "Thank you, Dorothea. Rest assured I will be doing my best to restore peace for your kind here. The remaining herons plan to return to Serenes Force at the end of the moon."

Dorothea raised an eyebrow. "Huh? But there's nothing left for them there, unless...—The Galdr of Rebirth," she recalled suddenly.

"Indeed, the legendary song that is said to be able to restore just about anything. They intend to put on a ritual at Serenes Forest," Edelgard confirmed. "I will be sure to keep in touch to let you know the results, and of course, with Petra to negotiate a proper treaty for both of our nations."

"I would be liking that greatly. You have my thanks, Edelgard!" Petra replied cheerily. 

From behind them, a sailor upon a grand boat called out to them. “We’re leaving in five minutes!” his voice boomed out. “I don’t want to be late, so wrap it up!”

Ferdinand huffed. “That man _does _ know that he is talking to the queen of Brigid, does he not?” he grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“It is fine,” Petra dismissed. “It is true that we should be going.” 

“Well then, Petra, Dorothea. It was a pleasure having you. You did good work for her Majesty and for all of Fódlan,” Hubert told them both with a bow. “Perhaps we will be seeking your services in the future, should those who slither show themselves.”

Oh, Petra suddenly realized, they never really did find those mysterious mages that had been reported coming from the Kingdom. Perhaps the fighting for Fódlan wasn’t over yet, but… no. Petra did not want to waste another moment when she had a whole country to get back to, and a grandfather she hadn’t seen in ten years. Brigid was calling for its new queen, and she would not ignore it nor its people.

“D...Don’t forget about me when you’re famous!” Bernadetta stuttered out. 

“Brigid certainly sounds relaxing,” Linhardt commented. “The wildlife and the sound of the tide… I’m sure you’re in for plenty of good naps.”

Dorothea wrapped her hand around Petra’s waist and pulled her into her side forcefully, a cheerful smile upon her face. “Oh, I’m certain we won’t be doing much napping,” she teased.

Petra was puzzled by what exactly Dorothea meant, at first, until the realization dawned upon her and her cheeks flared a deep scarlet. She shook her head and cleared her throat to regain her composure, eager to shift the topic away and brush off all those shocked looks the others were giving her. “Goodbye now! You have all become my most precious friends. I will not be forgetting about anyone,” Petra assured the group of them. “And I will certainly be visiting Fódlan sometimes. I have spent more than half of my life in the Empire, so it would feel strange if I were not to be returning. I will look forward to meeting with you all again.”

“Thank you, everyone! Until next time, I hope everyone’s days are full of happiness!” wished Dorothea, waving them off.

“Goodbye, Dorothea! Goodbye, Petra!” chorused the group of them.

And with that, the two of them turned away from their friends and boarded the large ship. Their luggage had already been loaded up in advance and brought to their room, so immediately they headed to the upper deck. Petra climbed up the stairs, tugging Dorothea all the way until they reached the very edge. From the top of the ship, they could see the vast blue sea, spread out as far as the eye could see. The familiar chill of the ocean air shot down Petra’s spine, and she closed her eyes and simply reveled in it. She allowed the breeze to carry her hair upon the wind, blowing through Dorothea’s feathers in the process. A single white feather came loose from her wing and carried itself upon the breeze. Dorothea's curious gaze watched as it blew into the clutches of Edelgard’s hand on the dock beneath. 

The emperor glanced up at the two of them and smiled, nodding to them both in silent approval. Dorothea shot her friends beneath a final grin and wave, not missing as Edelgard’s other hand came to grasp Byleth’s. 

“Those two are madly in love,” Dorothea stated to Petra. “How long do you think before we’re invited to their wedding? I’ll give it three moons.”

“Do you have certainty? Three moons is a short time. We have known each other for five years, after all,” Petra reminded her.

“Oh Petra, I would have married you years ago if I could have,” Dorothea sighed wistfully. 

With one final wave goodbye, the boat was off. Friends shouted and cheered their farewells until the dock faded from view, swallowed up by the sight of blue all around them. It had only been but a few minutes, but Fódlan was already starting to feel so far away to Petra. She leaned against the railing of the boat and reflected upon the ten years gone past. How she came there as a prisoner, not knowing a single word. How she had looked upon everyone else as though she was a terrified rabbit, thinking that perhaps the Imperial nobles were talking about how best to kill her. She had truly grown into something else in that period of time. Now, not only was she able to speak the language of Fódlan, but she had become a far more capable fighter… and, of course, gained someone valuable to her.

“So, what do you think we should do first when we get to Brigid?” Dorothea asked her fiancée. “I want to see all those flowers you were talking about before. Oh, and the shells on the beach, of course!”

“I am thinking that sounds nice,” agreed Petra. “But I am also thinking… my grandfather wishes to meet you.”

“Oh, of course,” Dorothea remembered. “I certainly hope you’ve told him about me.”

“He is knowing about you, but he is not knowing that we are engaged. But do not be worrying! He is a kind man. I am certain the people of Brigid will love you.”

In truth, Dorothea possessed some anxieties about the whole situation. Petra could understand her worries, for they were not far from the ones she had when she was on the boat to the Empire. For one thing, Dorothea didn’t know too many Brigaeli words, though Petra had been sharing a few of them upon occasion. That would be the first barrier they would have to break. Secondly, while Brigid was far more tolerant of Laguz than other nations, the people of Brigid had never had a Laguz for a queen before. That was certainly something that they would have to get used to. Thirdly… well, there had never been two queens before! All bridges they would cross when they got to them. 

Petra nuzzled her head into Dorothea’s neck, allowing the woman to wrap a wing around her back. She sighed contently, closing her eyes. The presence of her lover and the calming breeze of the ocean she had missed all too much surrounded her on all sides, lulling her heart. She listened to nothing but the ever present noise of their song. It was as bright and brilliant as ever, if not even more so, with melodious words pouring out in a symphony of love. It was a chain that linked their hearts together, no matter the distance, never fading. 

“I love you,” Petra told Dorothea out of the blue. She never really needed a reason for saying it other than that it felt so _ good _ upon her lips. “Always and forever.”

“I love you too, Petra,” echoed Dorothea, reaching to intertwine their hands together. “My beautiful queen. My beloved, forever and always.”

* * *

_ Petra - Queen of Brigid, Dorothea - Harmonious Heart _

_ Petra returned to her homeland of Brigid, and inherited the throne from her grandfather. As ruler, she declared independence from Fódlan, and renegotiated Brigid's diplomatic ties to that nation on more equal terms. At every step along the way, she was accompanied by Dorothea, who had left Fódlan behind to support her. Dorothea used the connections she had made in her time at the opera to her benefit, and even worked reluctantly with the Fódlan nobility for Petra's sake. The people of Brigid were skeptical of her at first, but warmed up to her over time. The two of them soon married, and adopted numerous children they raised as their own, both Beorc and Laguz. It is said that she became the person whom Petra loved the most. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm. going to need a break from writing for a few days i think.
> 
> i love these two so fucking much??? the words wouldnt stop coming. petrathea rights! i need to spread my agenda to absolutely everyone.
> 
> anyway i love this au and i love you if you bothered to read this much. to be honest i'm probably going to be writing an epilogue later too bit it's 3:00 am and i've been writing since 10 pm with no breaks so like. im exhausted. if theres any typos here and there let me know so i can fix them, im so exhausted and reading through 20,000 words again is hard as fuck. i might write more for this au as well.
> 
> god. please leave a comment and a kudo if you read this far i'd really appreciate it. thank you so much for sticking with me.
> 
> [ consider following me on twitter if you enjoyed](https://twitter.com/voiddragonness) ill post more petrathea and gay shit rambling things


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